Defining the Indefinable
by Kitomi
Summary: When Togusa is terminally wounded on a mission, he is forced to undergo a full cybertransformation. No longer unique to Section Nine he questions his own worth and his humanity. Togusa must come to realize his new existence and what it means to be human.
1. Chapter 1: False Memories

Ghost in the Shell: Defining the Indefinable 

Note 1: Mostly based on the first season of the series, and loosely based on the movies.

Note 2: Italics represent conversation via e-brain.

Disclaimer: I do not own Ghost in the Shell or any of the characters, I am merely borrowing them for this story.

Summary: 3009 is an epoch of vast technology, where the net has reached its true potential. Its boundaries have stretched beyond imagination and have transcended above human limitations. This is a time where humans are the minority and people have chosen to transfer their spirits into artificial bodies, further recreating the definition of what it means to be human. With the creation of artificial intelligence, humanity has redefined the meaning of existence. With the melding of man and machine, the boundaries of humanity have become indistinguishable. In a world where artificial intelligence, makes true intelligence obsolete, when our own minds and memories fail us, only the ghost can determine who is a creation of the net and who is truly alive.

Ch. 1. False Memories

The mournful wail of ambulance sirens reverberated through the city streets, disrupting the calm ambiance of the dismal, rainy evening. Stark, red and blue neon lights flashed harshly against the hoary gray sky like bolts of brightly colored lightening. Their intense light flooded through the small apartment window, casting an eerie glow upon the crime scene. At the base of the first floor, sprawled upon the cold cement, the body of a man in his mid forties lay amidst a pool of his own blood. The neon lights reflected on the thick, milky fluid, further enhancing the macabre scene. Death had come as a surprise to the man., catching him completely unaware. His eyes remained unclosed., opened in shock and horror. His murky black pupils peered through the glossed exterior as if searching for an unanswered question, or the very face of his killer. His mouth hung open, savoring his final word or breath. It appeared as if he were still trying to communicate with the living. Although his ghost had long transcended into the next life, and the body itself could no longer speak, there was still a way for the victim to communicate, and perhaps identify his own murderer.

Thin, threadlike wires traveled from the U-shaped dummy-barrier to the terminals inserted in the nape of Togusa's neck. Holding the other end of the delicate wires lightly between his forefinger and thumb, Togusa considered taking the dive into the man's cyber memory bank. Through his memories, Togusa could view the man's final moments and perhaps even find out who had killed him. He began to plug the loose ends into the victims own terminals, but something caused him to falter.

_Togusa, report. _Major Motoko Kusanagi's deep, hallow voice contacted him through his e-brain. He cringed slightly at the mechanical ring that was her voice. Its low yet piercing tone startled him from his musings.

_Bloody mess._ Togusa grimly stated, his own voice thick with sarcasm. It was late, and he was losing his patience early this night. He was accustomed to long nights, being a former detective; however, tonight seemed particularly tiresome. He pulled the hem of his sleeve back to check the hour on his watch. It was a quarter past nine. At home his wife was just sitting down to dinner. She would be dining alone again tonight.

_Have you identified the cause of death? _Motoko was not amused by his dry humor so late in the evening? She too was impatient to wrap this case up.

_I'm not a mortician, but my best guess is that it was the gunshot wounds to the chest and lower abdomen that killed him_. Togusa said with the same derisive tone as before. _Cause of death is pretty obvious, but as to who and why is another question. Another question is to why Section Nine is involved with a simple case of homicide. Can't the local police handle this case on their own?_

_Always questioning everything, aren't you, Togusa?_ Motoko's voice hinted of laughter as she fondly recognized one of Togusa's obvious foibles. She continued in a voice more serious and to the point. _A series of unexplained cyborg related homicides, most of them young adults murdering their own families; that sounds like a case for Section Nine to me. _

_Being the case_, Togusa retorted, _why has it just come to our knowledge? There's not enough information as to why these murders are occurring, and if they are related to cyborgs._

_That's what we're here to find out. _Motoko confirmed. _The police suspect his daughter, who recently underwent a full cyber- transformation. She may have been involved in the murder. _

_His own daughter could have done this?_ Togusa's eyes roamed over the misshapen corpse in grim amazement at what humans were capable of. For a moment, thoughts of his own daughter flickered in his mind. He wondered if his daughter could one day be capable of such a thing. No-he reassured himself, and shook those dreadful thoughts from his mind. Not his little girl.

_So far none of the other accused have uttered a word as to why._ Motoko's voice sounded frustrated and tired. _That would definitely prove if there was a connection or not._

Togusa felt the wires in his hands and reconsidered linking with the man's memories. He knew the dummy barrier around his neck stood between his own brain and anything he plugged into. He felt secure knowing he had this protective device. His own curiosity and impatience outweighed the risks. Quickly, he made up his mind. _Major, I'm going in_.

_Careful, Togusa._ Her voice was sharp and full of warning. _These murders could be the result of a virus or a ghost hacker._

Cautiously, Togusa inserted the other end of the wires into the man's own terminals, taking the dive into his memories. He broke through the barriers and their minds were instantly linked. Togusa's own thoughts and memories were melded with the other man's. A whirr of voices chattered at once, blurred together as they crashed along the electric waves of the sea of living data. Images and faces rushed along the electric current as the information traveled along the cord into the agent's own cyber-brain, an augmented brain in which terminals had been physically implanted for this and other various purposes. Images, made clearer by the implants, showed the agent the events which had progressed in the man's final moments of life.

Togusa surfed along the collection of data and sorted out the details of the crime. The scene quickly unfolded before his eyes.

An adolescent girl, no older than thirteen, stood before her father; a small handgun held firmly by two small white hands. Her hands shook uncontrollably and her knuckles were nearly transparent from the ever tightening grip around the handle and trigger. Her entire body convulsed as she sobbed in rage and dismay. In a high, frightened voice she shrieked accusations of physical and mental abuse that her father seemed to have no recollection of.

Togusa was aware of the man's emotions, of his misery and hurt, as his only daughter charged him of the unimaginable. Filling his mind were thoughts worse than the accusations. Thoughts of his only daughter believing that he had done those horrible crimes flooded his mind, along with the fear of losing her. Togusa felt the man's anguish as his life was shattered by the series of accusations that he could not fathom. He could not be the perpetrator of such horrible acts against his own child. He had never maltreated his daughter, nor had he ever engaged in abusive behavior toward her. He could not understand where these claims were coming from.

His daughter stared at him with fierce hatred; her teeth clenched, as her hands wrapped ever tighter around the gun. Tears ran down her hot red cheeks, pooling in the dip of her throat.

The man closed his eyes for a moment, hoping when he reopened them it would all be unreal, just a nightmare that he would soon wake from. But when he reopened his eyes she was still before him, her hatred for him apparent. She demanded a confession. He pleaded his innocence. She would hear no more lies from him. Squeezing her eyes shut tight, she pulled the trigger.

Togusa's own body jolted as the bullet pierced the man's flesh, severing his heart. She fired three times, and the last gunshot was met with a rush of static as his life came to an abrupt end.

Togusa ripped the cord from his neck, cutting the connection between him and the body. Gasping, he stumbled back against the nearest wall. He leaned heavily against the cool hard surface as he attempted to regain his composure. He felt the warm wetness of fresh tears traveling down his own cheeks and he realized he was crying. He had known the risk when he dove in, how his own emotions would be under the influence of the other man's. His mind returned to the previous thoughts of his own daughter. He found himself seriously pondering if she would ever be capable of such a horrible act. He felt nauseous, as if he would vomit. He pushed every thought from his mind and concentrated on breathing deeply, slowly in and out, in and out.

He felt his mind clear, his emotions re-stabilize. He was ready to contact the major.

_Major,_ even the voice in his head was quavering and unsteady. _I may have determined the killer's motive._

_Report. _She sounded unusually interested. He wondered if she, being a full cyborg, was also taking this case very personally.

_It appears the girl was exacting revenge on her father for years of abuse_. Togusa said as matter-a-factly as he possibly could. _But what gets me is that the victim had no memories of these accusations. They didn't happen._

_Sounds like a ghost hack._ The major concluded. My _guess is leaning toward a cyber terrorist._

_This is serious stuff. _Togusa seemed to state it as a question rather than a fact.

_Still confused as to why Section Nine is involved?_ Motoko's voice rang with laughter, echoing coldly, inside his head. Now, he was not in the mood for jokes.

_Let's go, Togusa._ Motoko returned to her same stoic self. _We haven't a moment to waste._

* * *

Several hours later the images of the murder were replayed on a large screen in the briefing room at Public Security Headquarters. Togusa stood among the small group of cyborgs and cyborized agents. With only an implanted sub-brain, he alone was the only human in the group. It was this difference that set him apart from the others, that made him special to Section Nine. Togusa cringed as every gruesome second of the murder was replayed before his reluctant eyes. He felt nauseous and the same feelings of anxiety and fear he felt during the dive returned.

Beside him, Motoko's cyborg partner, Batou, leaned casually against the stiff frame of the sofa. The furniture, though firm, succumbed to his massive weight. His small disk-shaped prosthetic eyes focused on the images; his brow furrowed around them. This gave him the appearance of squinting. The deep lines around his mouth were set in a firm frown as he concentrated on the hologram before him. His muscular arms remained crossed over his wide girth. He was a huge man, the muscle behind section nine.

From time to time, Batou would turn his attention away from the screen to make a derisive remark, usually directed to Togusa. He must have discerned Togusa's apparent discomfort, for a sardonic smile stretched across his smug, square face. He gave Togusa a peculiar look, made even more bizarre by his cyber eyes. "Looking pale, there, Togusa."

Togusa sighed impatiently at Batou's school-boy antics, and yet he was relieved to have a distraction from the horrible images being repeated on the screen. Around the room, the other members of section nine watched with little response as the recording came to a finish. With a whirr and a crackle the screen went blank.

"Did you get all that?" The head of section nine, chief Aramaki, swiveled his chair to face his men. His wrinkled, ape like face, which had so christened him with the moniker 'old ape,' was firmly set into a dour frown. Although he was an aging old man, he none the less demanded the highest respect. He seemed to speak to no one in particular as he addressed the team. He waited for a response as he laced his bent and knobby fingers together before him.

"Yes, sir." Saito casually leaned back on the hard sofa, his arms wrapped high above his head. His thin face was almost smug as he addressed the chief. After Togusa, he was the closest member to being human. His expertise was in weaponry and he was an excellent sniper. His eagle eye covered his right eye like an eye patch. Its vision was surpassed by none.

"What I don't get is how this crime is connected to the others." Batou shrugged shifting his weight from one booted foot to the next.

"Well, the murders have all been committed by cyborgs," Motoko Stood, stretching her long muscular legs. Thick bangs fell across her forehead, hiding the expression in her claret eyes. Being a cyborg herself, Togusa continued to wonder if she felt a personal connection to the case. Whether she felt it or not, Motoko remained as blasé as ever. She continued in her usual insouciance. "The victims have all been relatives to the suspects, in most cases they were killed out of revenge for crimes against them."

"That doesn't explain what this has to do with them being cyborgs. Batou seemed to take offence from the generalization. His blatant sarcasm was quickly transcending into agitation.

Motoko waited for Togusa to explain. Since he had taken the dive, he could best explain what he had witnessed. She sensed his unease and answered for him. "Well the victims contain no memory of doing these crimes, yet the suspects believe they did."

"Could it be a virus obtained somewhere during the cyberization process?" Ishikawa, one of the oldest members of section nine, leaned forward, testing his own theory on the case. He was a class-A hacker with an indissolubly calm demure. As he sorted his thoughts he habitually stroked the course brown hair of his beard . "Or perhaps it's a ghost hack?"

"Perhaps." Motoko said simply. "Which leads me to my next point. Each of the accused had recently undergone the transition from human to full cyborg within the past year, which furthers my suspicions of a virus. It's too early to say but we may be dealing with a cyber terrorist, or a professional hacker."

"But why would they target young teenagers?" Togusa asked, his voice rose slightly, revealing his anger. "What could a terrorist hope to achieve by installing false memories into children?"

"That is what we're here to find out." Aramaki said simply. "This could be a very serious conspiracy, or it could be the work of a novice hacker. Whatever it is, we don't have much time to find out." With that he turned to face the rest of the team. "Ishikawa, I need an analysis of the victim's memories and the breakdown of the murders. Tap into the data base, see if it's a virus. Batou, Bulma, I need you two to get down to the police headquarters, see if you can get some testimony from one of the suspects. Dig up as much information as you can."

"Right, Chief." Batou pulled his weight from the couch. The sofa slowly retook its form.

"Major, Togusa," The chief addressed them, finishing his orders . "I need the two of you to return to the crime scene and gather more evidence, see what you can uncover. Is that clear?"

"Yes sir." The other members responded in habitual unison as they all rose to depart.

Togusa waited a moment before he too decided to leave. As he turned for the exit, he felt Batou's large hand clasp firmly on his shoulder. Togusa felt the strong grip of his wide palm and tried no to flinch under his strength.

"One-on-one time with the major." Batou smirked in his usual wittiness. "You get all the fun jobs."

"Are you jealous big guy? Togusa retorted. His humor had long run dry.

Batou raised his hands, palms up, as if to block the very idea. His brows lifted and his forehead crinkled as his face morphed with laughter.

"Hey, Togusa." The major approached him as he made a second attempt to leave. As she walked over to him, she slowly pulled on her jacket, the trademark article of her style.

"What's up with you today? You seem distracted?"

"Family man." Batou laughed, his broad shoulders rose slightly with the chuckle. "Probably thinking about his grocery list."

"Yeah, and I suppose dog owners never think about buying dog chow." Togusa replied, referring to the countless stops they had made after work to buy dog food for Batou's basset hound, Gabriel. "Do you boss?"

"That's enough you two." Motoko strode past them, un-amused. Her red, inhuman eyes seemed to have taken on a fierce brilliancy. "We need to get down to business. Togusa, we leave in ten minutes."

* * *

Togusa held his nine millimeter Mateba in his right hand, relishing its simple familiarity. With the world so high-tech and complicated, it was refreshing to hold on to more sentimental possessions. For some unknown reason he clung to outdated relics, even his own wife could not get enough of old twentieth century movies.

He held the gun with both hands and wrapped his fingers along the obsolete firearm. He looked down the hall to the target and fired three times. The weapon's voice seemed to speak to him as it gave its ear-piercing cries. Smoke swirled about the gun for several seconds until finally transcending out of view. Within moments the light came on behind the target and he could see the bullet holes illuminated near the center of the bulls-eye. He smiled slightly, 'Accurate. Nice,' he thought, 'Still got it.'

He was unaware that the major was standing behind him, leaning casually over the railway that separated the shooting range from the rest of the room. She had an amused look on her face and he knew what she was thinking.

"Wouldn't it be much easier to invest in some prosthetics?" She teased. "Or you could at least move up to a more advanced firearm. That nine-mil is so outdated."

Togusa searched for a response, careful not to offend her with his reasoning against cyberization. Instead he had a question. "Major." He searched for the right way to risk a reoccurring inquiry. "If you're so concerned that I might not measure up as a human, why did you select me in the first place, why?"

"It's simple, Togusa, as I've told you before." She chuckled lightly, a sound like tinkling brass bells. "Predictability is a weakness; strength is found in diversity. It's your being human that makes you unique."

"Different more like it." Togusa mused, fondling his firearm. He felt as obsolete at the antique weapon.

"Except for your e-brain you are completely human, and you're a family man, that's what makes you unique." She reminded him. "It's necessary in this world of cyberization. Our differences are what make us human."

"So why do you insist that I go full cyborg?" Togusa was still a bit confused.

"It's just a suggestion." She laughed slightly. "It couldn't hurt."

"I'll pass, thanks." Togusa slid his gun back into its case. He glimpsed briefly up at the Major. Her back was to him now, and he could clearly see the terminals in the back of her neck. Occasionally, he forgot that she was a cyborg, and not a human. He remembered that she had undergone the transformation as a young girl and he couldn't fathom what it must have been like for her.

As if she realized what he was thinking, she turned to face him, a blend of both agitation and amusement on her face. "Now are you done socializing so we can get the investigation under way?"

"Right." Togusa nodded quickly as he stood, slinging the gun bag over his right shoulder. He still had one more question. "Uh, major."

"What now, Togusa?" She seemed to be leaning more towards agitation.

His voice stuck in his throat and he lost the nerve to ask. "Never mind."

"Then let's go." Motoko stretched her long muscular legs and strode out of the room. Togusa sighed, repositioned the gun bag around his shoulder, and reluctantly followed the Major back into the storm.


	2. Chapter 2: Termination

Ghost in the Shell: Defining the Indefinable 

Disclaimer: I do not own Ghost in the Shell or any of the characters, I am merely borrowing them for this story.

NOTE: Thanks to everyone for their reviews! I also want to thank my sis for being my personal editor:) To The-Anibee in particular I hope you still write your version of this plot since it was on your list-I don't own it and I would love to see another interpretation:)

Ch. 2.Termination 

Beads of rain traveled down the windshield as the car cut a path through the heavy downpour. The racing droplets were annihilated as they ran into the slashing windshield wipers. The twin blades shrieked against the rain smeared glass. Motoko watched the hopeless plight of the raindrops as she guided the car blindly into the night. She felt a sudden shudder rippling down her spine, a whisper in her ghost.

Togusa sat quietly beside her, his russet eyes starring dully into the blurred window. His coffee remained untouched and cold. He held his cell phone open in his hand. The green light on the screen cast an eerie glow on his face, exaggerating the hard set lines around his mouth.

"So call them already." Motoko said, slightly irritated. "It is midnight after all."

"Right." he sighed, and dialed. Within a minute his wife answered. "Hi hun. Yeah, it's me. Did I wake you? Sorry. No I won't be coming home tonight." There was a pause and he sighed, slightly frustrated. "Yes I know. Uh-huh. Yes, love you too. Bye."

The phone lingered unclosed at his ear long after the conversation had ended. At times like these Motoko felt a pang of guilt for pulling Togusa into this job, but without his unique abilities, Section Nine would be overly specialized. Predictability was a weakness and he was a necessary asset to the team.

Finally, Togusa flipped the top down and the interior of the car was cast back into darkness. The only light came from the red and yellow street lights passing over the windshield. Tucking the phone into his pocket, Togusa retrieved his coffee from the cup holder and took a sip. He made a show of disgust and discarded the cup back into the cup holder. Motoko envied him that moment. For her, the consumption of food had become nothing more than nostalgia. They rode on in silence into the tempest.

* * *

It continued to rain relentlessly into the early hours of morning. As Motoko and Togusa returned to the crime scene they were pelted by a heavy downpour. The grisly venue was further enhanced by the bleak atmosphere. Rain faceted somberly on the metal roof and ran like tears along the windows. Its trail left clean streaks on the glass's grimy surface. 

Togusa lingered in the doorway of the apartment entryway, looking in at the waste left behind. Although the body had long been removed, blood and desecration were left behind as evidence of the carnage that had taken place there. Togusa could still feel the victim's ominous presence lingering within the murky lobby of the old apartment. Togusa was soaked through to the marrow and his dark bangs were plastered to his square face, yet he would not enter. He had an impending feeling about this place.

Motoko stood at the base of the staircase where the body once lay. Her onyx jacket glistened with moisture and small drops of rain beaded on the surface of her facsimile skin. She flipped her wet synthetic hair from her eyes. It hung in damp strands behind her ears and clung to her neck. She turned to Togusa and a belligerent look crossed her face. "Are you going to just stand there in the rain or are we going to get this investigation underway?"

"What? Sorry." Togusa stumbled and stepped inside. He shivered in his wet coat as an icy draft came in from the rafters. A hushed whisper was carried upon the breeze like a quiet warning. His apprehension only increased and he wanted to bolt from the room.

_Major, Togusa, I just got an interesting report from the police station. _Batou's sonorous, droning voice broke through the silence. _Turns out the police don't have the girl in custody. There's no trace of her, and the police have no leads._

_You mean the girl wasn't arrested yet? _Togusa couldn't keep the alarm from his voice. 'That means the girl could still be here.' Togusa frowned and turned to Motoko."Major, are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"Right." Motoko agreed, drawing her weapon, a handgun that far superseded Togusa's Mateba. She seemed slightly unnerved by the news, however she hid her concern behind a stoic demeanor. "I'll search the downstairs, you check out the upstairs."

"Right." Togusa nodded, drawing his firearm from its holster. His clammy hands wrapped around its worn handle; his forefinger came to the trigger. He thought fondly of the many missions he had been through with that gun and that thought helped to ease his unraveling nerves.

Slowly he glanced up the darkened staircase. The sun had not yet risen to light the inside of the apartment. The landing was encompassed in shadows, but through the darkness he could identify the second level of the apartment halls. He rationalized that the bedrooms were upstairs. If the girl was still there she would be hiding in one of those rooms. Togusa stood at the base of the stairway and listened for sounds of life within. For a brief second he thought he heard movement on the landing, but he wasn't sure. 'It's just your mind playing a trick on you.' he told himself, shaking the thought from his head. "Better make sure just in case."

Togusa readied his firearm, holding it at eye level. He stepped onto the first step, his dress shoes slid slightly on the wet concrete. Slowly, he made his way up the stairway, one step at a time. Images of the murder replayed in his mind, causing him to grow more anxious. He did his best to push those thoughts from his mind but memories of the girl, firearm in hand, unnerved him.

Finally, Togusa came to the top of the stairs. The rain clouds lifted, allowing the fading moon to light the landing through the small window. His eyes adjusted to the blue light illuminating through the window, and he could make out a small form at the base of the landing. It was then that he recognized the girl, her eyes fresh with tears and her lips cracked and bleeding. Then he noticed the gun, the same gun she had used to kill her own father.

Gasping, He jerked to a sudden stop. Frozen in shock, his eyes widened in alarm. In the pale light he could see her face scrunched into a glower, a look of pure abhorrence on her face. Without warning she pulled the trigger.

The sound of the gunshot exploded in his head, reverberating throughout his entire being. He gasped in shock and pain as the bullet tore into his body, ripping through his stomach muscles and tearing his insides. His body felt as though it were on fire, as if the bullet had been aflame. Blood splattered on to the wall and dotted the girls shirt and face. He stumbled backwards, dropping his Mateba. It clattered loudly down the stairs.

She fired again, the second round sending him down the staircase. Through wide open eyes he seemed to watch the scene unfold as if time itself had decelerated. He felt as if he were floating backwards, the entire time his body was wracked in pain and his mind was in turmoil. In the few short seconds that he fell images and faces from his entire lifetime frantically rushed through his mind. He couldn't focus on a single thought completely. Everything seemed so surreal.

In an instant he hit the bottom of the staircase. His head smashed against the hard cement floor, his legs cracked against the bottom steps. Blood pulled around his head and soaked into his back as it collected on the floor. He knew in moments he'd be dead.

"Togusa!" Motoko's voice broke through his clouded thoughts. He saw her run over and he tried to speak to her. He tried to tell her what happened, but he couldn't utter a word; he could barely breath. The world buzzed around him and he felt himself slipping into unconsciousness.

"Togusa what happened?" Motoko hovered over him, her red eyes wide and revealing a hint of fear. "Togusa speak to me!"

He tried to answer her but his voice was lost in frantic breaths. His words were further garbled by a sudden rush of blood in his mouth. He gagged on its taste and he allowed the red liquid to ooze down his chin. He realized he couldn't move. He couldn't feel the pain and he understood that he had severed his spine when he hit the stairs. He had little time to contemplate this realization for he felt himself further slip into unconsciousness and he couldn't fight it.

"Togusa stay with me!" He saw her mouth form the words but he could no longer hear them above the static blur. Frantically he looked up the stairway. The girl remained at the base of the landing. Smoke drifted from the gun. He caught a glimpse of her briefly before she fled back down the hall, and then he saw no more.

Author's note: I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. There are many more where that one came from. Please R and R:)


	3. Chapter 3: The Vacant Shell

Ghost in the Shell: Defining the Indefinable 

Disclaimer: I do not own Ghost in the Shell or any of the characters, I am merely borrowing them for this story.

NOTE: Thanks again to everyone for their reviews! Sorry to have left you all on that cliff hanger for so long, but college life gets so busy around Midterms:( Anyway, I hope you all like my spin on Togusa's cyberization:)

Ch 3. The Vacant Shell

There was only blackness. A soundless, monochromatic abyss. Then the engulfing void was broken by a crack of static, followed by a whir of sound. Vaguely, Togusa could hear the electronic beeping of machines. Slowly, he opened his eyes. At first, all he could distinguish were blurs of color and formless objects. When his vision cleared completely, he could identify his location with some certainty. The sterile white walls were suffused in fluorescent light, blinding his sensitive eyes. He squinted against the harsh luminosity and his nose scrunched at the sterile odors. His first impression would have lead him to believe this was heaven, but no eternal paradise would be so strident. He concluded after several minutes that he was in the center of a hospital room.

'How can this be?' He thought as the images of the girl and the Major hovering over his fallen body revisited his mind. 'I died.'

He tried to call the major through the net, but he was answered by a soundless void. There was only a hollow sound. He was disconnected from the net. For the first time since his brain augmentation there was silence.

He felt a painful pricking sensation and a slight pressure in the back of his head, as a needle was inserted into his skull. His senses became suddenly clearer, and the sensation of feeling returned to his body. He could feel the pull of the straps, suspending him from the ceiling, underneath his arms. He could feel his toes brushing the hard floor. He distinctly remembered his paralysis and confusion filled his mind. 'What is going on?'

He sensed a presence in the room. Someone was with him. He turned his head to an almost impossible degree but still the person was just out of view.

"What's going on?" He asked aloud, finally able to speak. He heard his own voice echo within his head. It sounded different to him, deeper and hallow. He was even more amazed that he could speak.

A middle aged woman came around to face him. She wore the traditional garb of a medical personnel. Her long lab coat came down to her shins, and she cradled a chart board in the crook of her right arm. With her left index finger, she readjusted her harlequin glasses, and smiled. Togusa identified her as a doctor, and he concluded his earlier presumption that he was in a hospital. He still couldn't understand how he had survived.

"Welcome back Mr. Togusa." The woman spoke lyrically, attempting cheerfulness. She then went about checking his vitals and scratched her recordings on a crisp sheet of paper clipped to the board. The entire time she avoided making eye contact with the suspended patient.

"What. How did-"

"Please, Mr. Togusa, let me explain." The woman's face became more serous. Her dark brows lowered under the rim of her spectacles. "You were in a terrible accident do you remember?"

"Yes." he heard his own voice reply, but still couldn't identify it as his own.

"You were severely wounded. There was little chance for your survival." She said and continued carefully. "The only way to insure your survival was to perform a full cyborg conversion."

"What?" He couldn't take in what he had just been told. Then he realized that he couldn't feel the wound. He focused his attention to his abdomen. He couldn't sense where the bullets had gone through. This wasn't his old body.

"We did all we could, but it became necessary that your brain be transported into a cybernetic body."

"I don't understand." He whispered. The room suddenly became smaller and harsher.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Togusa. Your wife signed the release form and granted us full rights to perform the conversion. It will take a while to get used to the new body, but you will find that there are many benefits to having a cybernetic body." The woman smiled reassuringly in a second attempt at pleasantries.

Togusa couldn't respond. All he could do was stare into the florescent light and attempt to contemplate what he had just learned.

"I'm going to release you from your bindings now. " She instructed him and he felt himself being lowered to the floor. "Please try to get used to standing before you try walking."

* * *

In the waiting room, Togusa's family was waiting to be reunited with him. From the clear glass doorway, he observed them sitting in the small round chairs. His wife's face was drawn and pale with exhaustion. Her heavy eyelids lowered so that her lashes brushed her cheeks. She stifled a yawn into the cup of one hand, careful not to disturb the child flopped across her lap. His daughter had fallen asleep, a blonde haired doll hugged tightly in her arms. Togusa recognized it as the one he had bought her for her last birthday. He stared into its flaxen, ivory face, and wondered if he was any more alive than that lifeless doll. 

In the glass, he could see his own reflection looking back. The translucent image was a mirror image of his old body. There seemed to be no difference. He just hoped this would be enough for his family. He sighed deeply, a hollow echo escaped his chest.

Slowly, he brought his hand to the door and pushed. He forced it open with a little more strength than he had meant and the sound of the door swinging open alerted his wife of his arrival. She only glimpsed at him for a second before lowering her gaze to the stirring child in her lap. She gently shook the whimpering little form. The girl's arms wrapped tighter around the doll as she rose.

"Look, its your father." She announced as the girl slid from her lap, onto the floor. She rubbed her eyes and whined softly. The doll dangled limply from her arms. "Go greet your father."

"Daddy?" The girl asked slightly, her drooping eyes widened at the sight of her father standing in the doorway. With a look of bafflement on her face, she approached him carefully. Before he could utter a word, she was wrapped around his stiff legs. His unyielding body did not so much as waver as she flung her small weight against it.

"Daddy your ok!" She cried, her plump red face morphing with emotion. Togusa smiled, an easy gesture to accomplish, and lowered himself to her level. He wavered slightly as he awkwardly bent his knees down. The nurse stood behind him and prepared to catch him lest he fall. Once at his daughter's level, he brought his hands to her face. Slowly, he placed his flat palms against her round, wet cheeks, wanting to feel her face. He tried to cup his hands around her cheeks, but his fingers closed too hard, squeezing her head.

"That hurts!" she cried as her father's hands began pressing her face in. "Daddy let go!"

Realizing what he was doing, Togusa tried to loosen his grip, but his fingers had locked in that position. Desperately, he tried to pull away before he hurt his daughter.

"Togusa!" His wife called, suddenly alert, as she rushed to intervene. Before she could aid her daughter, the nurse had already taken control of the situational. With able hands, she pried his fingers away, freeing the frantic child to take refuge behind her mother's skirt.

"That's not daddy!" She wailed hysterically. "Mommy, where's daddy! That not him!"

Togusa watched helplessly as his wife tried to comfort the pain stricken child. His hands trembled uncontrollably. He couldn't even fathom what he had almost done.

"You must be more careful." The nurse stated plainly, as if she had not been aware of the situation that had just unfolded. "This new body will take some getting used to."

Togusa nodded dully, only half listening. Even once he'd grow accustomed to controlling the body, how could he ever get used to being inhuman.

* * *

Togusa awoke from what he hoped had all been a long, terrible nightmare. Through sleep blurred eyes he half-focused on his right hand curled lazily before his face. He laboriously tested each digit. Bending his fingers, he tried to make a fist, but the digits twinged when he attempted this simple motion. Now he was wide awake and aware that this had not been a dream. 

'This can't be real!' Togusa screamed within his mind His own voice seemed to bounce inside his titanium skull. 'I really am a cyborg…I'm one of them!'

He bolted upright in his bed, awkwardly, for he still wasn't used to maneuvering his new body. In one unnatural movement, he swung his legs over the side of the bed. His hands gripped the sheets roughly, the thin cloth tearing in his startlingly strong grasp. The weight of his solid form sank into the mattress.

He sat a while in the darkness, letting his false eyes adjust to the light. The advanced lenses easily pierced through the gloom.

Slowly, he brought his hands to his face. They looked real,. but not like his own. These were not his hands; they were imposters. He rotated his wrist to study the top of his hands. They were too smooth and flawless to be his own. He examined them, frantically trying to recall every detail , every flaw that made him human.

'It is our differences that make us human.' He recalled something Motoko had said not too long ago. Now that he was no longer human he wondered if they would still need him at Section Nine. He wondered how his family would cope with the change. He remembered the way he had hurt his daughter and the fear in her eyes. She hadn't even recognized her own parent. He was no longer the father she knew and trusted, but a frightening robot with cold dangerous hands.

With difficulty he pinched the false skin between his forefinger and his thumb. Artificial nerves simulated the sensation of pain. Pain signified existence. But it wasn't flesh, it was man-made. With effort, he flexed his arm. The sinewy cords of his artificial muscles stretched and tensed. The realness of the synthetic muscles, the perfect structure of the metal skeleton had captured the very essence of humanity.

He thought of his natural body, reduced to a lifeless, vacant shell. Like the discarded remains of a hermit crap shell or the shed exoskeleton of a tarantula. He felt the need to shudder, but he couldn't. While his artificial body still wore down, ached, sensed touch; some feelings could not be replicated.

Across the room, a full length mirror reflected his image. He stared into his own face. Something about it was not the same. The way the moonlight blanched the flaxen skin was unnatural. It was a poor imitation of himself. The synthetic hair was styled in his usual shag. He almost laughed. His wife hated his mullet. He was surprised that she hadn't requested the hair changed. She could have asked for any alterations, but she had requested the closest replica of her husband. While touched by this, he knew he couldn't afford this custom made shell, not without section nine. This body belonged to them.

He wondered how specific to detail they had been. He lifted his shirt. The skin was unscathed by the bullets that had destroyed his material body, and their was no scar from the wound he received during the Laughing Man case. He looked at the flawless fake skin, untouched by life's accidents. It was as if he was reborn only yesterday. This was not far from the truth.

Cautiously, he went to peer into his eyes, the gateways to the soul. He couldn't bring himself to look into them in fear that they too would not be the same.

The soft tread of footsteps outside his door brought him to attention. He heard the paddling of his daughters feet come to a stop outside the door. She faltered, afraid to knock. She was terrified of her new daddy.

"Get away from there." He heard his wife's soft scorning. "Don't disturb your father. He needs to be left alone while he gets used to his new body."

His daughter whimpered a reply. She only wanted to look. As frightened as she was, she was still curious as to who or what had replaced her father.

"Now, go wash your hands. Dinner is ready." His wife's voice came closer to the door as she hurried the child down the hall, toward the washroom.

A shaft of light spilled into the small room as his wife cracked open the door. Without looking in to see if Togusa was awake or not she whispered. "Are you hungry, hun? Supper is ready?"

"No, thanks." He said to himself. With superior metabolic control, cyborgs had little use for human food. His face scrunched at the thought of eating one of those lumpy white bars. He would stick to the food that replicated real food. Even if it was just nostalgia.

He remembered questioning Batou about cyborg food. Now, he truly understood what Batou meant. He did crave the pleasures that he had had when he was human, and he wasn't willing to let those things of his humanity go.

"I made your favorite." His wife pressed lightly. Her voice was as unsure as her mind was on whether he could eat it or not.

"No, thanks" Togusa said simply. He had never turned down a home cooked meal before. It had been so long since he had had a home cooked meal from his wife. He resented that his last meal had been a cold cup of coffee.

"Please, come out and join your family for dinner." His wife asked almost desperately. "It has been so long since the family was all together at the dinner table."

Togusa cringed at the thought of facing his wife and child. He couldn't let them see how much he was struggling with his new body. "Sorry, hun, I'm tired."

"Do you want me to leave the door open?" She asked, hoping he would say yes, but he whispered no. Slowly, she shut the door, enclosing him back into darkness.

NOTE: Hope you all enjoyed that! Hopefull I will get the next chapter posted sooner. Please feel free to R and R! I love hearing from you all!


	4. Chapter 4: Welcome Back

Note: I still don't own any of the GITS characters as much as I'd like to.

Note: Whoops, I had to change something so I reposted-the chapters the same though-sorry:)

Note: Thanks again for all of the wonderful reviews:) In particular, the thing about the cyber eyes:) Also, sorry for the slow chapter and for it being short. I have had midterms and have been very busy and with spring break I may not be able to post until next week so I wanted to get something out. Well I hope you enjoy it anyway-the Tachikomas are in this one:)

Ch. 4: Welcome Back.

The elevator rose slowly into the echelon of the clouds. Gears groaned as they grinded together and the pulleys shrieked against the strain. Togusa watched through the diaphanous window as the towering levels of skyscrapers passed beneath him. He leaned heavily against the side of the walls. His hands clutched the metallic rail behind him. The strange gravity within the small moving box was throwing him off balance. Despite two weeks out of work, Togusa still hadn't mastered his prosthetic body. He still could not properly judge his strength or control the minute movements of his smaller joints. Even after the painful therapy and the hard effort, he was still struggling to obtain a sense of balance. Even more difficult was the attempt to hide his struggle from his family. He had to admit, it was good returning to work; to his normal life.

The past two weeks had been mind numbing. He often strolled through town to practice walking in his new chasse. People passed him in the streets without blinking or turning their heads. Togusa had studied them as they passed. There were so many cyborgs. These days it wasn't an odd occurrence to bump into several on the street. In fact, humans had become somewhat of a minority. Togusa had always identified himself with his humanity, but now he was no longer one of the special few.

He remembered passing by a mother burdened by the child hanging off her arm. The boy had stopped momentarily to stare at Togusa's stiff legged gait. Only children were keen enough to notice the minuscule differences between man and machine. They were also the only ones rude enough to point it out.

"Mom, did you see how that cyborg walks." The boy had tried to get her attention by pulling harder on her arm. "Like a robot."

"Stop starring at that man." She had scolded her son. "And don't call them cyborgs. That's a rude remark."

'Them?' Togusa thought now. 'Is that all I am now, just one of them?'

The sudden jarring of the elevator jolted Togusa from this thought. Togusa lost his balance and wavered on the brink of falling. He almost fell, but his body somehow regained equilibrium. He glanced up at the glowing numbers. He still had a few floors left to go.

This near fall reminded him of another near accident only two days ago. In the street he had bumped into an elderly man. The frail being had succumbed to Togusa's heavy weight and had fallen back. Togusa didn't go down then, but he had stumbled.

"Excuse me, sir." The man had begged his pardon as he passed on. He hadn't seemed to notice that Togusa was a cyborg.

'Maybe it isn't that noticeable.' Togusa thought as he looked above to the reflecting metal of the elevator roof. The line bordering man and machine was so thin it was hard to tell the difference. 'What distinguishes humanity anyway? Is it the natural body or the mind. In that case am I man or machine?'

At this, the elevator came to a shaky stop and the metallic doors slid open. Togusa barely stepped out of the elevator when he was surrounded by a swarm of spider like think- tanks. The Tachikomas, claws clasping his arms and hair, enthusiastically examined his new chasse. Bobbing as they talked, the Tachikomas looked as if they would explode with excitement.

"Wow, Mr. Togusa! This new body of yours is so much like the old one!" The tank Togusa could only identify as the squeaky voiced one trilled, its claw shaking his arm.

"Did you get any upgrades?" Another asked. Its spherical eyes rolled about its head, trying to take in every detail. Togusa knew the moment he left they would be projecting images of him stored in their AI to do a comparison of his old and new body.

"My turn!" One squealed. With its claws it pushed the others aside. "Let me see!"

"Is it anatomically correct?" The Tachikoma, previously identified as squeaky, asked. It looked as bashful as a weapon could with its eye rolled down and its claws hooked innocently. This gesture reminded Togusa of his daughter when she asked him absurd questions like where babies came from.

"What?" Togusa wondered if he could even blush. His mouth dropped open habitually. He backed away but the wall prevented his escape.

"That's enough you guys. Get your claws off him." Batou laughed, but still commanded their obedience. "What have I told you guys about personal space?"

"Oh, sorry, Mr. Batou." His favorite said. The Tachikomas lowered their front ends forward as if lowering their heads in shame. Their spherical eyes lolled to the floor apologetically. Their claws clasped shamefully together. "We were just curious."

"That's right, Mr. Batou." Another piped in the chorus of whining tanks. "It isn't everyday that we get to see the complete transformation of a human to full cyborg."

"Enough fun time." Batuou shooed them away and they bellyached all the way down the hall. Batou laughed, his expression could only be described as paternal. Togusa now realized why Batou indulged them so much. He never had a child like Togusa. It was a dream deferred. The Tachikomas were the closest things he was ever going to have to a child of his own.

"Don't worry little guy, they'll get bored of you soon enough. " Batou chuckled, slapping Togusa on the shoulder. While the sensory receptors picked up on that sensation, it didn't hurt as much as it used to. "When they find a new topic of interest."

"Interest? But they are robots." Togusa started but he caught himself. "Never mind."

"Whatever." Batou laughed. His expression changed from fatherly to cynical. "Hey, Togusa have you lost weight? I think your new body is slimmer."

"Hey there big guy, maybe that weight equipment is finally paying off." Togusa retorted.

"Yeah right." Batou smirked. He flexed his arm as if to prove it was the same size as the day before. Leaving it at that, Batou excused himself. Togusa was left to fend for himself in case the Tachikomas returned.

Down the hall a solitary Tachikoma held a book in its claw. This one had not attacked him. Togusa often saw it alone, but he had never been interested to know if it was really reading or not. There were eight of them in all. Modeled after jumping spiders, the four-legged light think tanks were built to be less empathetic so Togusa lacked a personal connection to them until now that he had something in common with them.

"What are you reading?" He asked as he approached the lone tank.

"The bible." It replied, looking up from the pages. "I'm beginning to grasp the concept of God."

"Oh?" Togusa humored it. "Indulge me."

"God isn't so much a human as he is an invisible force." It started. "But god made man in his image so he would need to appear human. In exodus for example, he comes to Moses as a burning bush, not in the presence of a man. Perhaps god can take many forms like Brahmin, the Hindu god. In the Bhagavad-Gita God comes to Arjuna in the form of avatar Krishna. And in truth, god is everywhere and everything. So when we say that god made man in his image, maybe what it meant was in spirit."

"So what do the other Tachikomas think?" Togusa asked, sliding his hands into his jacket pockets. He never realized the extent in which these weapons thought.

"It is hard to speak for he whole." The tank replied. "Most have not grasped the concept of a greater power or an eternal soul. Only through reading was I able to come to my conclusion. Of course this is still a developing theory."

As Togusa listened to it speak he realized how distinct their thoughts were from the others, except their memories were linked. Even their voices portrayed a hint of individuality. Batou even selected one as his favorite and identified it as 'his' Tachikoma.

"It's our differences that make us human." Motoko's words flicked his memory again. The Tachikomas had seemed to develop individuality and perhaps they had acquired even more.

'But they are just tanks. How could they, in their arachnid shape, even be considered human? He questioned, studying the tank as it read. 'But if humanity lays within the mind alone, despite physical form, then perhaps-'

"Mr. Togusa what is your opinion of God?" The Tachikoma asked innocently.

"Huh?" Togusa was startled out of his musings "Oh, your guess is as good as mine."

"True, for only when a living being dies does it truly learn the meaning of life."

Togusa thought about his body. His heart had stopped and his body had died. Only his memories remained. 'Has my soul moved on without me when my body failed? Is Togusa dead and am I only a collection of memories? No, impossible.'

He looked back to the Tachikoma. He wondered what it was that made it unique despite the shared memories. Was it its mind or was it in fact, alive. He thought almost hopefully that it could even have a ghost.

_Togusa, briefing in five. _Motoko's voice cut through his thoughts, the echo seemingly louder in his titanium skull. _By the way, welcome back._

Note: I hope you all enjoyed that:) Don't worry, a longer chapter will be posted next time:) The action should be picking up soon as well


	5. Chapter 5: Target Practice

Note: I still don't own any of the GITS characters as much as I'd like to.

Note: Thanks again for all of the wonderful reviews:) Sorry this one took so long. I hope you like it:)

Ch 5: Target Practice

In the briefing room at Public Security Headquarters, Togusa stood among the other cyborized agents, no longer different. He was no longer the only human in the group; no longer special to Section Nine. Now Saito and Borma were more human than he. Togusa stood stiffly by the couch, refusing to sit. He was more comfortable to stand, and unlike his human body, his cyborg legs could stand without tiring for an amazing length of time.

There was an awkward silence among the members. No one spoke, as if attempting not to mention his cyberization. Togusa felt the other members watching him. Saito studied him curiously from the corner of his natural left eye. When Togusa turned to face him, Saito quickly looked away. Batou didn't even need to turn his head to catch a glimpse, but Togusa knew he was looking at him. When Batou realized he had been caught staring, he offered a cheesy apologetic grin. Togusa eyed the Major. He could see the sympathy gleaming in her eyes. Her pathetic regard for him irritated him more than the stares. He didn't want sympathy, especially from the Major.

"Let's get down to business." Chief Aramaki swiveled his massive chair about to face the group. With one knobbed finger he clicked a button which opened the large screen. Projected before the agents were numerous images and descriptions on several adolescences. "These are the profiles of the suspects. As you all should notice they are all within the ages of ten through eighteen. However, age is the only characteristic these suspects have in common apart from being cyborgs."

Togusa tensed as pictures of the children flashed across the screen. His eyes fell on the image of the little girl who had shot him. Her sweet face sent a wave of panic through him. In the picture she was smiling, her face seemingly innocent. Even as he viewed the photograph, Togusa could not shake the images of her tear swelled eyes glowing with hatred in the blue moonlight. She had had no reason to distrust Togusa, and yet she had looked at him with such intense abhorrence. All sympathy he had felt for her was lost the instant she pulled the trigger. This child had ruined his life.

"Any other leads?" Motoko asked after the team all had time to glance over the material. Her head hung low as if she was exhausted by this case. With her face turned down, purple tufts of hair masked her expression.

"Well, isn't it obvious?" Batou said callously, his arms crossed firmly against his chest. He was growing irritated with this case as well. "Since the children all underwent the cyborg transformation within the same year it was obviously a virus implanted during the process."

"The thing of it is, they each received their bodies from various companies." Ishikawa frowned, rubbing his course mustache. "So there is no way to link the cause of the killings with the cyberization process, and we found no trace of a virus."

"Well I'm stumped." Batou smirked in Togusa's direction. Togusa smiled slightly, grateful for Batou's usual cynical humor. It was a relief that one person was still treating him the same as before.

"That doesn't rule out a cyber terrorist, but so far there are no leads." Motoko said simply. She had on her shorter jacket, revealing the slender curves of her sides. Her cybernetic body was a perfect work of art, unlike Togusa's, which was a replica of his imperfect body. Togusa wondered how much her cyborg body resembled her original. 'Had she really been that perfect?'

Togusa turned his attention from Motoko to Batou. He had never thought much about his companions' cyberizations before. He studied Batou's grim facial features. The eerie expressionless disks planted in his sockets further enhanced his frightful appearance. He wondered why he didn't opted for a more attractive exterior. Next, Togusa stole a glance at Saito's eagle-eye. He never questioned why the sniper chose a site for an eye. It seemed to him that the other members chose their prosthetics the same way they chose firearms: for accuracy and advantage. His body, being a replica of his inferior human form, was somewhat of a handicap.

"During my investigation, I came across an interesting connection." Borma said after some time. "It appears that each suspect had undergone therapy at the Kowasake Institute for difficulties with adjusting with their cyber bodies. They all shared one advisor: Mr. Masaki Katsuo."

With that being said, an image of the doctor was enlarged upon the screen. Togusa read the description underneath the photograph, then he focused on the picture above. He studied the doctor's appearance with interest. Masaki Katsuo was an ordinary looking man with a slender face, high defined cheekbones, and square-framed glasses balanced perfectly atop his nose.

"It says here that he specializes with patients with cyber implants or full prosthetics." Ishikawa read aloud. "Apparently he has developed a system of retracing memories lost or repressed during the cyberization process."

"Perhaps this quack doctor has something to do with this." Batou said, stretching back on the couch. "Or he could at least give us some answers."

"Right. Ishikawa, Borma, go back through the data." Aramaki nodded his head in agreement with Batou's speculations. "Motoko you go check out the Kowasake clinic."

"Right chief." Motoko nodded and slid her maroon sunglasses on. Togusa watched as the other members of Section Nine separated to their assigned duties. Togusa quickly realized that the chief wasn't going to give him an assignment. He had left Togusa out of the case. He clenched his fist to keep from disrupting as his insult turned to anger. When the room was cleared of only the Chief and him, he confronted the 'old ape.'

"Hey, Chief, you just can't leave me out like this." Togusa said, holding back his emotion. "Let me help solve this case."

"I am afraid that you are too close to the situation." The chief answered truthfully. "Besides that, you haven't mastered your prosthetic body yet. Without complete control you put yourself in danger."

"Please, Chief. I promise, I won't let my personal feelings get in the way." Togusa almost begged. He was desperate to be a part of this case, after all, it had cost him his body. "I can do this, trust me."

"You know he has a point." Motoko slinked back into the room. "Don't you think you're being a bit hard on him, Chief? This is, after all, his case more than anyone's."

The Chief sighed. His tired face stretched thin. This was his call, but the Major had made a good argument on Togusa's behalf. Despite his better judgment, he gave in to her persuasion. He sighed heavily and nodded. "Alright. But if need be, I will pull you out of this case."

"Thanks, Chief. " Togusa smiled. He wanted to stick this one out until the bitter end.

"Oh, and Togusa, I am putting you under the charge of the Major." The Chief added as a stipulation. "If she feels it's necessary, I will pull you out of this case."

"Right chief." Togusa nodded. He was even more determined than ever to prove his worth as a member of Section Nine. " It won't be necessary."

* * *

Togusa withdrew his Mateba Model 6 Unica revolver from the gun bag. Holding it gently in his right hand, he longed to feel the familiar leather against the rough skin of his fingers, the way it did in reality. The sensation he was feeling as he touched the gun was pure fabrication. Finger prints from the sweat of his human hands stained the worn leather grip. These hands were not the ones that had left their mark on this gun. The revolver, which usually seemed to gleam in its masters hands was dull in the unfamiliar grip of these prosthetic fingers. Its master had died long ago.

Carefully, Togusa wrapped both hands around the gun and painstakingly brought one index finger to the trigger. He focused his improved vision on the target down the hall. With great effort, he pulled his index finger in, squeezing the trigger to fire. One shot. The weapon seemed to cry out as the cold fingers gave their cruel demands. The light came on behind the target, revealing his inaccuracy. The bullet had barley hit the target. Togusa frowned and concentrated as he repositioned himself for the second shot. He brought the gun higher before his face and steadied his fingers. With his frustration it became even more difficult to maneuver his finger to pull the trigger. The stubborn digit flicked open as he almost succeeded. Frustrated, Togusa pulled harder. The gun fired another round into the target. Again, the light came on and again his aim was off.

"Dammit!" Togusa hissed under his breath. He had preferred the revolver because it was accurate, and he knew it wouldn't jam, but his body was interfering with the accuracy. He aimed and fired again. This time the bullet didn't even hit the target.

"Goddammit!" He cursed as he fired several rounds into the target. These barely scraped the edges.

'All those years of training for nothing; just to start from scratch.' Togusa thought hopelessly. 'First it was learning how to walk, eat, and even move my damn fingers. These worthless metal hands.'

"_That's not daddy!" _His daughter's hysterical voice cried in his mind. _"Mommy, where's daddy! That not him!"_

"I'm still me!" Togusa cried out in desperation. "I'm not some damn robot! I'm still me!"

He fired another shot. His finger finally obeyed its master, but still the bullets missed the mark. "I'm not a machine! I won' t let myself become a robot!"

Standing above a pile of golden bullet shells, Togusa sent round after round into the target, hoping to regain his master aim and perhaps even himself. Finally, the bullets were depleted. Ejecting the spent cartridges, he clumsily loaded six shells into their place.

"If I can't make this shot, I'll lose what's left of myself." Togusa raised the Mateba at eye level. He focused down the hall to the target. He aimed toward the center and squeezing his eyes shut, he fired a single shot. He opened his eyes. The bullet had strayed to the bottom edge of the target. His frustration spent, Togusa lowered the revolver to his side.

"Son of a bitch." Togusa hissed as the lights went off behind the target. Now he was certain that the old Togusa had died, leaving this rejected metal man in its place. This imposter couldn't even fire a handgun. Now he was sure his soul had left him. All he had were his memories, but those alone couldn't comprise the man he had been nor could they help him discover the man he would became.

Note: Hope you all enjoyed it. There should be another chapter in a couple of weeks:)


	6. Chapter 6: Reflections

Note: I still don't own Ghost in the Shell or any of the characters.

Note: Thanks to everyone who reviewed. This is a short drabble from Motoko's perspective. I hope you enjoy it:)

Ch 6: Reflections

In the passenger seat, next to the Major, Togusa sat quietly within himself. Sunlight passed quickly over his flaxen face, blanching his already flat expression. Motoko studied him through the corners of her eyes. The position of her pupils were hidden behind the large violet sunglasses so she knew Togusa couldn't see her watching him. While his expression didn't show it, she knew he was hurting tremendously. She had witnessed the scene at the practice range from the stairwell. She knew he was struggling with the difficult changes and she understood his feelings of self doubt, especially his uncertainty about his own existence. She feared he would take these dangerous emotions with him into the field, which could put the entire mission in jeopardy. Motoko knew it was a poor decision on her part by placing Togusa back on the case, but she understood his anger and his grief, and she knew this was something he would have to stick out until the bitter end.

"Do you really think your ready?" Motoko asked him sternly. An eerie gleam in her artificial eyes pierced through the shades, unsettling Togusa further.

"I'm ready." Togusa said flatly. There was a slight hint of uncertainty in his tone which Motoko immediately picked up on.

'He is in your charge.' She reassured herself, but this thought did not bring her much comfort. As incredible as she was, she hadn't been able to protect Togusa before. In her care, several Tachikomas had been destroyed, but this was different. This was one of her team members. A human couldn't simply be put back together at the lab. They had restored his memories but not his self. She wondered if he still even existed at all or if the Togusa she had known was dead and this was just a replica simply continuing from where the other Togusa left off. Motoko often wondered that much about her own existence. She had been so young when she had become a full cyborg. She still had some deep-seeded memories of the past in her implanted human brain; her only human part. The memories of being alive still haunted her. Although her proficiency with the artificial body was highly advanced, she was still troubled by her childhood memories when she was unable to master the more subtle intricacies of her body. These bitter emotions she hid beneath a stanch and stoic demeanor. She understood exactly what Togusa was going through.

She glanced to the road, then back to Togusa. He was now brooding over an unopened can of cyborg cola. She knew he wasn't thirsty. It was just a habitual craving that his mind wouldn't allow his body to relinquish. She watched his fingers bend over the pop tab. His face scrunched in concentration as he tried to command his stubborn digits to obey the simple command. She watched, disheartened, as he struggled to slide his fingertip under the tab and pull the cap off to free the liquid within. She hoped he would successfully accomplish this task, but she knew he wouldn't. She didn't offer him any assistance. She had to let him master his body as she had had to when she was a child.

Motoko turned away from this discouraging struggle of can against machine, and looked back to the road. Her eyes eventually wondered back to the can and the uncontrollable hands that couldn't open it. She hid a sign of relief as Togusa's finger slid under the pop tab. He was learning quickly. Then instead of pulling up, his finger pressed into the can, breaking a hole in the top of it. Togusa sighed impatiently, pulling one wet finger from the broken can.

"Well it's open." he sighed, licking off his finger. He could taste it, but the flavor was just artificially insinuated. He swallowed the thick liquid and scoffed. "Ah, that's refreshing."

"When I was adjusting to my new body, I broke a doll of mine." Motoko revealed to him. Although this memory was very personal and painful for her to tell, she recounted it with little emotion. "Now I can handle this body with no problem. It will be no time until you get used to yours."

"Thanks." Togusa stared sour faced into the can. He didn't want her sympathetic encouragement, she could tell. He hesitated and sighing, turned to face her for the first time since he got into the car. "Hey Major, have you ever wondered if you still have a soul?"

"I do." she answered simply, not revealing anymore.

"Well?" Togusa pressed lightly. He watched her intensely as he waited for her reply.

Motoko sighed softly and turned back to face the road. "That's something you'll have to figure out for yourself."

Note: Sorry for another short chapter. Longer chapters are on the way. Hope you enjoyed it anyway:)


	7. Chapter 7: A Web of Truth and Lies

Note: I still don't own Ghost in the Shell or any characters except for the ones I invented:)

Note: Thanks again to everyone for the reviews:) I always enjoy reading them and I am so glad that you all are enjoying this fic:) I am introducing a new character today and I hope you all love her as much as I do:)

Ch 7: A Web of Truth and Lies

"So this is the place." Motoko said blandly as they arrived at the entrance of the Kowasake Institute. Sliding her sunglasses from her ears, she peered dully at the plain building. She chewed on the tip of the shades before clipping them to her jacket. "It's smaller than I thought."

"Yeah," Togusa agreed, sliding his hands into his jacket pockets. "Well, let's have a look."

"Let's make this a quick visit." Motoko added. "I don't want to arouse suspicion."

"Right." Togusa nodded as Motoko's image became transparent, fading into the scenery with the help of thermoptics. "I'll give you fifteen minutes to snoop."

"That's all the time I'll need." Her voice responded from somewhere behind him. "Let's go."

Togusa stepped toward the automatic doors which came open the moment they sensed his weight on the mat. He lingered in the doorway, giving Motoko enough time to slip in unnoticed. He caught a brief glitch in the thermoptic camouflage as she entered. Togusa tried to pretend that she wasn't there as he approached the main desk and requested an appointment with Dr. Katsuo.

"Mr. Togusa, your name doesn't sound familiar." The receptionist lowered her glasses to study his face. Togusa could tell by the certain glint in her eyes that this woman was human. He was surprised that they didn't have androids running the computers. "Are you a new client?"

"Uh, yes." Togusa said. "I just underwent a full cyborg transformation this month during which some of my memories, I fear, have been misplaced. I heard that Dr. Katsuo is the man to see."

"Of course." The receptionist turned to the computer database. Her lithe fingers flew across the keyboard as she searched through the records. "It's just that I don't remember scheduling an appointment with you."

"Oh?" Togusa humored this. Section Nine had only slipped it in within the last ten minutes. "Maybe you could check, again."

"Of course, but I don't' see the point as I never-" She stopped as she read his name. "Odd. Mr. Togusa, I have you down for two o' clock. So why don't you take a seat and the doctor will be with you in a short while."

"Thank you." Togusa said, trying to hide a scathing smile, and made his way to the lounge to wait. 'An appointment with the quack doctor.' He laughed inwardly. 'This should be interesting.'

Coming to an empty chair, Togusa stiffly lowered himself into it. On the table was a pile of magazines from which Togusa browsed. His fingers stubbornly pressed into the magazines, bending them, as he tried to scoot them aside. He carefully lifted a _News Weekly_ from among the many trendy subscriptions and leafed through it leisurely.

_Togusa, this is no time to catch up on your reading. _Motoko's voice ripped through his head; its pitch was made even more severe since his cyberization. _You're supposed to be doing an investigation._

_My appointment isn't until two, mommy. _Togusa said, leaning back a bit to emphasize his rest. He gently turned each page but his fingers betrayed him once more, and he tore several pages. He quickly became aware of a child hovering over his shoulder. Togusa lowered the magazine into his lap and rotated his head to see her. He asked her what she wanted. He never prompted his daughter to talk; she had to learn to come out and say it, but this child was not his own. "Well?"

"Can I have a piece of paper from your book?" The girl asked him, not at all shy. She was sitting sideways on the chair, bobbing with excitement. "I am out of paper and I want to practice coloring some more."

Without answering, Togusa flipped slowly through the magazine until he came to a sheet that was mostly white and tore it out. While turning the pages without shredding them was difficult for Togusa, tearing the paper out was a simple task.

"Are you a cyborg too?" The child asked him eagerly as he handed her the paper. "Are you a cyborg like me?"

"Yes," Togusa forced an encouraging smile. He didn't want to dishearten this child with his pessimism. "Just like you."

"Did you just get your body?" She asked him as she slid from the chair, onto the floor. She made this action look so simple. "You're not very good with your fingers."

Togusa gasped slightly. He did not realize that it was still so noticeable. After a few moments he reluctantly answered her. "Recently, yes."

"Mommy says I was in a car crash." The girl blurted her story unassumingly to this stranger. Using the coffee table as a drawing board, she set about drawing. The black crayon left clumsy thick lines against the paper's white sheen. "She says my body was broken and so they made me a new one. It looks just like me!"

"I bet it does." Togusa smiled, returning to the magazine. In the corner of his eyes, he could observe the child diligently scribbling. Her prosthetic hands struggled to obey her mind's simple commands and her drawing was turning out short of a masterpiece. Piled around the girl were the crumpled mistakes of her previous failures. Togusa could not help but marvel at her determination.

"You know what else." The girl bobbed in his peripheral vision. "Mommy says when I get bigger I can get a big kid body too."

"That should be exciting." Togusa said, envious of her cheerful outlook He had an adult body. He would remain this way unless he had it changed. Otherwise he would watch his wife grow old as his body remained the same, ageless, deathless. He assumed the prosthetic body would age in its own way: parts would break down, become obsolete, until finally he would simply wear out.

"How did you get your new body?" the girl asked him. "Oh, and my name is Miki."

"Togusa." he answered only the second question. "Miki, it is nice to meet you."

"So, Mr. Togusa." She leaned forward. "You didn't answer my other question."

"There are some questions that don't need answers." Togusa said flatly. "So tell me, are you here to see Dr. Katsuo?"

"Mm hmm." The girl nodded. She continued to draw feverishly, as if her very existence relied on perfecting her skill. "He is helping me to remember my daddy. He died in the accident. " The girl was silent for a minute as if trying to remember on her own. "I don't want to forget daddy."

Togusa was about to respond when a secretary announced that the Doctor was ready for him. Togusa rose from the chair, and as he straightened his jacket, he glanced down at the girl's drawing. It was the beginnings of a face. There were no eyes or a nose yet, but there was a chin and two large ears.

"It's daddy." The girl whispered before he could ask. Her hands trembled, releasing the crayon onto the floor. It rolled under the table, coming to a stop on the other side. "As much as I can remember of him."

* * *

Iridescent wires, trailed from the child's terminals like fragile spider webs, linking the boy's sub-brain directly to the powerful machinery. From the exports in his terminals his internal memories were being transferred immediately to the computer to be analyzed. Strung like a puppet from these glossy threads, he appeared as lifeless as one.

"It's the latest in psychological regression therapy." The doctor, Masaki Katsuo, proudly stated, not even turning away from his accomplishment to face Togusa, who was staring dumbstruck at the boy seated before him. "Would you like to see how the procedure is done? My receptionist informed me that you requested a preview. Is that correct?"

"Yes." Togusa answered, his eyes transfixed on the boy's empty expression. His body's main functions were powered down so that the machine could dig somewhere in his subconscious. "I'm not keen on diving in without seeing how this works first."

"It is that way with most adults. They are never eager to give it a try. " The doctor said almost sounding disappointed. An irregular glint of light passed over the quadrangle lenses of his glasses. "So far, my only returning patients have been children, as their parents are unaware what the procedure is truly capable of. The few adults who do give it a try usually quit the treatment after just one trial."

"Why is that?" Togusa turned to face the doctor, watching his face carefully. Somewhere within the room, Motoko was investigating unseen. He couldn't even hear her footsteps on the worn burgundy carpet. He couldn't help but think how great it was to work under a superior with as much expertise and skill as the Major. He only hoped that his part of the investigation would turn up as much important information as hers. Because it was required to be in autistic mode beyond this point, he couldn't communicate directly with the Major.

"I am not sure. Many of them did not like what memories they recovered. Usually they pass it off as a false memory to satisfy themselves." The doctor answered after a moment of thought. He sighed. "Perhaps, they are afraid of what they would discover about themselves after believing so long in their own illusory identities."

For a moment, the two stood silent watching the child. The only sound resonated from the slight electronic beeping of the machines. The air was filled with electrical waves and the whirring from the computer. Finally the doctor turned to Togusa. "So what do you think, Mr. Togusa? Are you interested in undergoing the procedure?

"These memories, could any of them be false?" Togusa ignored his question, careful not to sound like a detective. The doctor's previous words disturbed him greatly. His philosophy was peculiar.

"Oh, no." Katsuo answered with a confident smile. "In fact, this program has even been able to discern applicated memories from real ones."

"Is that so?" Togusa asked, suddenly personally interested in this technique. "So this technology can identify simulated experiences from real ones."

"That is correct." The doctor said with a short nod. With that sudden action, his glasses slid from his nose and he gently pushed them back up with one finger. He turned to face Togusa, a streak of light blanched the lenses, hiding his blue eyes. "So tell me, Mr. Togusa, have you been a cyborg long?"

"What?" Togusa was taken aback by this question. He thought he heard the Major trying to contact him through encrypted channels, but he ignored her warning. "No, only recently."

"Do you ever wonder if your memories are truly your own?" The doctor asked him seriously, his voice taking on a cynical tone. "What if they were planted in there in the lab. What if your brain has been tinkered with by those neurologist."

"That's ridiculous." Togusa responded, unnerved and slightly insulted. "Why are you asking me this?"

"Have you ever considered the possibility?" The doctor continued frankly. "This technology has the capability to uncover such scandals. Why shun such a technological advancement?"

"This is pure science fiction." Togusa said, staring at the boy once more. The expression on his face was alarming and so were the doctor's bold words. "Even if this program is capable of what you say, it can't be proven that it does, in fact, work."

"Why do you doubt this great achievement? After all, this is an epoch of vast technology, where the net has reached its true potential. Its boundaries have stretched beyond imagination and have transcended above human limitations. " The doctor spoke, becoming more impassioned with each word. "This is a time where humans are the minority and people have chosen to transfer their spirits into artificial bodies, further recreating the definition of what it means to be human. With the creation of artificial intelligence, humanity has redefined the very meaning of existence. With the melding of man and machine, the boundaries of humanity have become virtually indistinguishable."

"That's enough." Togusa interrupted him as he turned to leave. He had collected the information he needed for the investigation, but he wasn't interested in a sermon from an overly ambitious scientist. He wasn't truly here to witness a technological discovery and he wasn't about to be persuaded to give this therapy a try. This was business, and he didn't want to give the Major a single reason to pull him from the case. "I have seen enough of this."

"If you are so certain of your identity then, by all means, go." Katsuo said somewhat bitterly. "However, you cannot argue with the truth that can only be found through science, a truth, no religion can ever hope to realize. In a world where artificial intelligence, makes true intelligence obsolete, when our own minds and memories fail us, only technology can determine what is true and what is a creation of the net."

Note: I hope you all enjoyed this last chapter:) It was a bit longer than the last two so I hope that makes up for the few short ones:) I am concerned because with summer vacation that the chapters may be coming a bit slower but I will try to keep this up:)


	8. Chapter 8: A Forgotten Promise

Note: I still don't own Ghost in the Shell or any characters except for the ones I invented:)

Note: This chapter contains some elements inspired by the novel: _After The Long Goodbye _by Masaki Yamada.

Note: Thanks again for all of the great reviews! I am thrilled that you all seem to like Miki and I enjoyed hearing your responses to Dr. Katsuo's logic on technology and humanity:) I'm sorry this chapter took so long to complete but I needed to find a reliable computer:) This chapter features Batou, so I think you will all be pleased:)

Chapter 8: A Forgotten Promise

It was drizzling throughout the entire city and the frigid rain increased intensity as the jet-black volvo carried its passengers downtown. Pedestrains passed by like atramentous shadows; the only noticeable color came from the vibrant colored paper umbrellas that hovered curiously above their heads. Beaming headlights, flashing street lights, and glowing neon signs, blurred together like florescent atomic water. Raindrops streaked against the windsheild, writhing in defiance against the blades of the windshield wipers.

Batou squeezed the cool leather grip of the steering wheel and gave his cherished antique car some juice. The engine purred in response like a feline in luxory. Batou smiled slyly, loving that sound, and knowing that his car was one of the only ones left of its classic model. As Batou turned the corner onto the next street, he finally spoke to Togusa after a silent ride into a dreary night.

"So, what's your problem, already?" He spoke harshly, not to have his question confused for a sentimental gesture.

"What?" Togusa asked him, staring into the flouresent ache of the local shopping district.

"Don't play dumb with me." Batou growled into the windshield, although with his eyes, one could never truly tell where he was looking. Togusa could only assume that he was watching the road. "What's with you blocking the Major out today?"

"She told you?" Togusa asked, trying not to sound alarmed.

"Better me than the Chief, Bud," Batou laughed a bit, but his humor quickly subsided and he set his face into a dour frown. "You can't leave your partner out like that."

"Hey, Boss, I asked for a ride home, not an interrogation." Togusa said defensively. He had already heard the lecture from 'Queen Kong' earlier that day, and after a long briefing with no further leads he just wanted to get home in one peice.

"Fine, but next time you pull some shit like that I"m hauling your ass off this case with or without the Chief's aproval, got it." Batou laughed, but with all seriousness. Togusa could not believe that Batou was giving him the lecture when not too long ago it had been the other way around.

They fell back into silence; the only sound that could be heard came streaming from the speakers on either side of the vehicle. Lee Morgan's mournful trumpet filled the car with the tune_ I'm a Fool to Want You._ Togusa wondered why Batou listened to that archaic music. It was so depressing and dull. The unharmonious high pitched ringing of Togusa's cell phone interupted the fluidity of the trumpet's smooth sorrowful notes, and he answered it quickly as to avoid another lecture from Batou.

"Hi, hun," His wife's voice greeted him softly through the slight static interference. Togusa turned the conversatin away from Batou as his wife dictated a list of items she wanted Togusa to pick up on the way home. She called more frequently since the accident and Togusa assumed she only wanted to make him feel useful again. "Did you get all that?" She asked him, faking cheerfulness. He could almost hear her forcing a smile.

"Got it." Togusa nodded into the phone.

"Love you." His wife's voiced cracked in his ear. Togusa recalled her phone call the night of the incident and he shivered a bit in response and replied. "Love you too."

"Detour?" Batou asked him, knowingly.

Togusa snapped the phone shut and nodding, replied, "Seems so."

* * *

Florescent light flickered weakly from the outdated rectangular light fixtures that hung from the ceiling of the convenience store. Togusa leisurely walked down the wide, dimly lit aisles, slowly passing by displays, hologram advertisements, and countless rows of food stuff. He passed from the canned food section into the pet food section. He casually glanced at the boxes and bags of pet food featuring fat, happy animals. He was drawn to the mournful face of a basset hound and recongnized the _Bajidu_ brand dog food that Batou bought Gabriel. He remembered Batou often saying in an argument with Ishikawa that it was the only dog food she would eat. Togusa agreed with Ishikawa; dry dog food was much healthier than wet food. 

Togusa reached out his hand and selected a box, warping it in his hands as he examined it. _Mega strength enhancers_, it read, _super enriched dog food and the number one dog breeders' choice_. Togusa glanced from the hype to the price. If his eyes could pop out of his head they would have as he read the amount of money that Batou spends on dog food. He considered that Gabriel was all that Batou had to spoil, unlike Togusa who had his family, and he let the matter go. Feeling compelled, he dropped the box into the basket along with his own items and made his way to the checkout.

* * *

Back in the car, the two resumed their unspoken vow of silence. Batou shifted uncomfortably and said in a more gentle, if not curious manner. "So, what did the two of you talk about?" 

"She just wanted me to pick up some groceries." Togusa said, bothered by his curiousity.

"No, you dumbass, not your wife." Batou spat. "The quack doctor and you?"

"Nothing." Togusa said, looking down at the robotic hands laying limply in his lap. He examined them as he bent each finger. 

"In a world where artificial intelligence, makes true intelligence obsolete, when our minds and memories fail us, only technology can determine what is true and what is a creation of the net." He thought about the doctor's words as he attempted to make a fist. He told himself that the man's concepts were completely ridiculous, but he couldn't help but consider his words.

"Stop with the angst, will you." Batou growled, shaking Togusa from his brooding. "Take a good look." He spat, his metalic eyes reflecting the neon glow, his strong brow protruding feircly over them, his wrinkles set deep around a firm frown. "Do you honestly think that you're the only one going through this ordeal?"

Togusa didn't answer, his eyes were glued to Batou's. In the silver disks, he saw the shadow of his own reflection. Through Batou's eyes, his ordeal seemed small in comparison. "Big guy?"

"Shut up, will you." Batou snapped, turning away. "You can't go on tyring to recover what you had. It's gone, alright. You would be better off figuring out what to do with what you've got."

"Big guy." Togusa stuttered as the car pulled into his driveway.

"Don't get all soft on me." Batou growled. "I'm just trying to talk some sense into you."

On the porch, Togusa could see his daughter sitting on a gliding chair, holding her doll affectionately in her arms, like a mother. She stiffened slightly at the sight of the hulking cyborg with the inhuman eyes. She had only met Batou a few times, and he still frightened her. She looked upon her father with equal fright for he had become one of them. Squeezing the doll to protect it or for protection, she scurried inside the house.

Togusa sighed, unwilling to face his family. He turned to Batou. "Hey, Big Guy, why don't you come in for a minute?"

"That's alright." Batou turned him down as usual. "Gabu wants her grub."

"Hey, some other time." Togusa shrugged and stepped out of the car, into the rain.

"Hey." Batou called him back in. The car shifted at the sudden weight adjustments.  
"What?" Togusa sat back in the seat. The car sunk.

"Thanks for the _Bajidu_."

* * *

Smothered in the warm glow of the kitchen light suspended above the dining table, Togusa watched his family eat. A spread of scallops and fried vegetables adorned the simple white table cloth. The scent of his wife's cooking was nothing more than nostalgia, replicated with artificial senses. Togusa stared at his substitution meal and wanted more than anything to eat the dinner his wife had prepared. Slowly, Togusa cut into the thick rubbery substance of imitation meat. Forking a small piece, he brought the glob to his mouth and sampled the cuisine. It tasted of tofu and its texture was like chewing on a dog toy. 

All the while, his daughter watched him eat. She had not even touched her own meal despite her mother's gentle prodding, Togusa met his child's disgusted stare with a cautious smile and forced a hum of satisfaction from a delicious meal.

"How is your dinner, hun?" His wife asked carefully. "The man at the grocery store said it tastes just like the real stuff."

"It's fine, thanks." Togusa chewed another bite to his daughter's disdain.

"It looks like a doggie chew toy." The girl whined, sliding down in her seat, her entire face morphed into a scowl as she pouted.

"Stop that and eat your food." Her mother scolded her and she picked at the scallops as if to eat them. Togusa watched this small act of defiance and wished he could have just one bite of the dinner she was wasting. His memory conjured the flavor of the food and his own meal tasted worse by comparison. It angered him that she would't eat her meal when she had the choice, but he reminded himself that she did not know what it was like not to have the choice at all. Now he knew what Batou had meant when he had said that just because you don't need it anymore doesn't mean you don't miss it.

"Hun, I'm going to call it a night, okay." Togusa carefully pushed back his chair but it tipped anyway. Togusa saw the flash of anger in his daughter's eyes and the heat of her outrage turning her cheeks red. The look of pity from his wife as she hurried to help him was even more unbearable.

"No, please," Togusa tried to handle it himself but she took the chair and pushed it in for him. Seeing the discontent on his face she placed her hand on his shoulder, only to recoil as if her hand had been burned. She immediately regretted her reaction the moment she saw what looked like hurt in his eyes. Before, they had been so listless and dull, until now when she thought she had caught a glimpse of what was left of his soul.

* * *

Darkness enveloped the small bedroom like a black curtain. Unable to sleep, Togusa reclined in his bed, careful not to disturb his wife who was still sleeping soundly beside him. For a brief moment, he pondered what she might be dreaming about. He could not even recall what his last dream had been. Togusa no longer dreamed. Somehow, he slept but it was just a state of unconsciousness. Cyborgs do not have a subconscious, therefore they do not dream. That is how he knew that his daughter really was standing in the doorway, in her cotton pajamas, squeezing her doll, watching him. 

"What are you doing up, sweetheart?" Togusa asked her quietly, trying not to scare the child or disturb his wife who hummed lightly in her sleep at the sound of his voice. "Is everything alright?"

"Daddy." She addressed him softly as she used to. Togusa was relieved to hear his daughter speak sweetly to him again. "Daddy, I'm frightened."

"I'm here, sweetheart." Togusa quickly slipped out of bed and went to her. Usually, he would have been impatient with this childish behavior, but he was just grateful that she wanted her father again. As he met her in the hall he moved cautiously not to startle her. He quickly dropped his guard as she took his hand. He could feel the warmth of her small palm and the light pressure of each little finger as if the sensation were real and not a synthetic imitation of feeling.

"It's okay, daddy." She sensed his reluctance to return her gesture. She squeezed his hand tighter and looked up at him in a way that could only be described as innocence.

Togusa carefully wrapped his fingers around her hand, completely burrowing her hand within his. He looked down at his daughter and thought how much he loved her. She smiled wide, revealing the large gap between her front teeth and he loved her more. Slowly, they walked together down the hall toward her darkened room, lit only by the blue moonlight that came though her window. In the doorway, his daughter stopped and refused to budge. Whimpering, she clung to her father's arm. "I'm scared."

"It's alright." Togusa said, coaching her to release his arm, but she grabbed on to his waste, refusing to enter her bedroom. He asked her if she had had a nightmare and she nodded, burrowing her head into his stomach.

"I did." She whispered, clinging to his nightshirt as if he would leave her if she let go. Her shoulders shook lightly as she started to cry. "I dreamed you forgot me."

Togusa sighed and with his free hand he stoked her hair, trying to calm her. He could smell the lavender shampoo his wife had used to wash her hair that evening. "I could never forget my only daughter."

"Even if they erase me from your memory?" She choked through her tears. "Even if I'm not real?"

"Sweetheart..." Togusa stumbled, not completely sure what she meant.

"Promise you won't forget me." She cried, looking up to meet his eyes as she said this. The moonlight caught her face, blanching her pale skin, highlighting the fear on her face. "Promise you won't forget about me!"

Before he could respond, he saw her image blur and the room became distorted. He felt a painful sensation in the back of his neck where the terminals were located and with a crack of static he was thrown into a black abyss. Then, there was a sharp electronic blip and several waves of static, followed by a whir of sound. Slowly, Togusa opened his eyes against a blinding light. He tried to move, but his body's main functions were powered down. He could only sit and stare into the blinding light.He caught the light flicker off of a mass of glossy wires trailing from his neck, trapping him like an insect caught in a spider web. From these webs, his internal memories were being transferred into the computer to be analyzed and if needed, erased.

"_Do you ever wonder if your memories are truly your own?"_ Togusa heard the doctor's cynical voice. _"What if they were planted in there in the lab. What if your brain has been tinkered with by those neurologist."_

"False memories, huh." He thought he heard Batou speaking. "And it looks like this guy's been messed up real bad."

Togusa cringed at these words. His mind in panic, he tried to recall his entire life as he remembered, but he couldn't remember anything.

"_Promise you won't forget me."_ He heard a familiar voice and yet the speaker was unknown. Whoever had said this no longer existed because they only existed within his mind. Every memory, every person he had ever known were nothing more than a fabricated memory.

When Togusa awoke, he expected to hear himself screaming and to be sitting upright in his bed at the realization that this was a nightmare, but he was not screaming and he was still laying on his back how he had positioned himself to sleep. His wife remained asleep beside him. Down the hall his daughter slept in her room with her doll hugged tightly in her arms. His family was real and so were his memories. 'It was only a dream.' He reminded himself and yet he could not shake the anxiety it had caused. 'But cyborgs don't dream.'

* * *

Note: I hope you all enjoyed the longer chapter and the twisted ending:) Things are starting to intensify now so the next chapters should be more exciting:) I hope to post another one again soon:) 


	9. Chapter 9: Trepidation

Disclaimer: I do not own Ghost in the Shell or any of the characters, except for the ones I created.

Note: I would like to dedicate this chapter to Project Dark Overlord who gave me wonderful advice on getting through my writer's crisis. Without her, this chapter would not have been completed to its full potential. Thank you so much:)

Note: Thanks again for all of your wonderful reviews:) I do read them carefully and consider your opinions. Some of you may even notice that your own theories of Dr. Masaki Katsuo are included in this next chapter as a complement to your close observations of his character. I loved your comments on him and could not help but include your input:)

Note: Sorry, this chapter took so long but I lost my first rough draft and had a difficult time salvaging this chapter. With the help of one of my readers I was able to recreate it better than ever:) I hope you all enjoy this chapter. It may be the longest chapter yet. This chapter features the entire team of Section Nine, the Tachikomas, Dr. Katsuo, and Miki so I think everyone will have a scene to enjoy:)

Note: This chapter discusses the existence of False Memory Syndrome and hypnotherapy which is a modern day issue. For more information on False Memories and hypnotherapy please refer to my profile as this real life situation has been a great inspiration for my fanfiction and I hope you all enjoy the modern relevance:) Again, I hope you all enjoy this chapter as I had to do it twice, but it was worth it:)

Chapter 9: Trepidation

The elevator climbed slowly into the zenith of the clouds. Its ascent was accompanied by the mechanical groaning of the gears and the rebellious shrieking of the pulleys as they strained against the weight they bore. Through the elevator's pellucid walls, Togusa viewed the gauzy clouds coated in the sun's golden rays. With the turbulent city buzzing beneath him, Togusa could only marvel at the placid nebulous mass, unengaged in the overloaded, industrious world that humanity had created below. Togusa had witnessed this phenomenon many times before while taking the elevator to work each morning, but seeing a natural occurrence so spectacular that even technology could never hope to recreate, he was still enraptured by its glory.

A message opened in his e-brain, and Motoko's austere face appeared in his direct line of vision, blocking the view of the clouds. _Togusa, where the hell are you? The briefing started five minutes ago._

_I'm on my way, Major._ Togusa sighed, closing the message window and returning his gaze to the spectacle before him. Ever since he blocked the Major during the investigation of Masaki Katsuo at the Kowasake Institute, she had exerted more effort into keeping tabs on Togusa's behavior. He was rarely late to a meeting so when he was she knew it meant that something was wrong. This time, he was late because of the dream he had the night before. Upon waking, he had spent hours laying awake in bed replaying the dream sequence in his mind, pondering its meaning or whether it was a dream or something more significant. 'Cyborgs don't have a subconscious so they don't dream.' Togusa reminded himself. 'Maybe it was just a sequence of images brought on by misdirected electrical signals? Or was it...?'

Togusa would not allow himself to finish the thought. He would not even consider that the dream had been an assimilated memory, but despite his efforts to dismiss this concern, the doctor's voice filled his anxious mind. "_Do you ever wonder if your memories are truly your own? What if they were planted in there in the lab? What if your brain has been tinkered with by those neurologist?" _

The elevator came to an abrupt stop and Togusa pushed his worries aside for a more immediate concern. As the metallic doors slid open he braced himself for the onslaught of Tachikomas that were surely waiting for his arrival on the other side. Despite Batou's reassurance that the Tachikoma's would lose interest in his prosthetic body, they were still enthralled with him like children with a new toy.

Togusa barely stepped out of the elevator when he was surrounded by a swarm of squealing think- tanks. Bobbing and squeaking inaudible words of glee, they looked as if they would explode with excitement.

"Wowy, Mr. Togusa!" The Tachikoma Togusa identified as Batou's favorite shrieked, its claws waving in the air and its four eyes swivelling about. "I still can't find a single difference between your prosthetic body and your natural one!"

"Trust me, it's different." Togusa growled, as the Tachikomas' claws clasped his arms and hair, examining him like a specimen in a laboratory.

"Have you gotten any upgrades yet?" The squeaky Tachikoma trilled, grabbing his only free arm and shaking it wildly. "You still have a domestic model. You should consider arming it with weaponry."

"Yeah, I'm sure my wife would love that." Togusa said sarcastically, pulling his arm free, only for it to be taken by another Tachikoma. "Damn, I didn't realize that spiders hunt in packs!"

"While your thinking about upgrading, maybe you should consider a new hairstyle." The ditzy Tachikoma took Togusa by the turf of his hair and pulled. A replicated sensation of pain shot through his scull. "That mullet is so outdated."

"Why not consider a customized face too!" Batou's favorite chimed in, carried away by the excitement. "Wouldn't you like to get rid of that mug of yours?"

"Let me see!" One of the Tachikomas cried out, desperately flailing its arms about, wanting to grab on to a part of Togusa's body. Now, he wished he had turned his pain receptors off; their claws were pinching. "I never get a turn!"

"Mr. Togusa, you never answered my question concerning whether your new body was anatomically correct!" The squeaky Tachikoma cried, no longer bashful with its spherical eyes rolled down and its claws hooked innocently. The tank looked him directly in the face; the tachikomas had no shame.

"That's enough! Get your claws off of me!" Togusa pulled his arms free and pushed passed the stunned think-tanks. Once his escape was complete, he made his way down the hall and through the door, into the briefing lounge. The Chief swivelled about in his chair, his face taking on the expression of a fowl tempered chimpanzee. The other members turned about on the couch to see what had disrupted their meeting.

"Your late." Motoko snapped, unamused. Despite her small stature, she was still an intimidating figure and demanded respect. "If your going to be late don't even bother showing up."

"Sorry," Togusa could not think of another response. "I was mobbed outside of the elevator."

"Guess I need to give the Tachikomas another lecture on personal space." Batou laughed amused, leaning back against the sofa casually. He seemed to be pleased with the meeting's interruption. "Don't worry, little guy, they'll lose interest in you...eventually."

"Very funny, Boss." Togusa laughed, taking a seat between Batou and Saito on the leather couch. The cushion sunk even further with the added weight.

"Well, I guess we''ll be nice and fill the late-comer in." Motoko said, reactivating the large screen. An image of Masaki Katsuo projected for the members to see. "Ishikawa, care to re-explain what you found."

"Sure, why not." Ishikawa said, non-convincingly. Pulling his head from his hands, he rubbed his temple between his forefinger and thumb. He had already developed a headache from explaing his findings the first time, and the prospect of a second round drained him further. "This time pay attention, Batou."

"I'm all ears." Batou grinned sheepishly in response, leaning further back against the leather furniture. It creaked in protest. "Whenever your ready."

"You're a real smartass, you know that." Ishikawa grumbled, finding no humor in Batou's antics today.

Motoko interrupted Ishikawa before he even started. "To start with, there have been three more cases of homicides reported in the last week, similar to the previous murders. Two of the cases displayed the same qualities as the last, but the third murder involved a twenty-seven year old woman whose husband allegedly abused her."

"The thing is, like the previous cases, her body didn't show any sign of physical abuse." Saito said. "She was also a patient of Dr. Katsuo's."

This last statement startled Togusa. He remembered the doctor saying that his only returning patients were children and that the few adults who did try the treatment usually quit after just one trial._ "Perhaps, they are afraid of what they would discover about themselves after believing so long in their own illusory identities." _He recalled the doctor's personal explanation for this trend.

"This reminds me. It seemed to me that the doctor has an apparent bias against humans." Motoko said. "During my observation of the doctor a few alarms went off. He is very intelligent but devious too. It would almost seem that he favors those who are cyberized over natural humans."

"So what? Is the psycho trying to eliminate natural humans all together?" Batou laughed. "The bastard!"

"Batou, be serious." Aramaki said. "We've already gone through this with you before. Please, try to take this seriously."

"Anyway, I'm just saying that whether or not he has any relevance to the homicides, he is still a person to look out for." Motoko said. "He may be able to give us some answers on these bizarre crimes."

Togusa felt the Major's eyes boring into him. He knew she was expecting him to add his own observations of the doctor, but he decided not to speak on the matter yet. He did not trust the doctor but he did not want to discredit him just yet. Seeing his reluctance to speak, Motoko turned the table to Ishikawa.

"While surfing the net, I came across a file on False Memory Syndrome and hypnotherapy created by representatives of the International Board for Regression Therapy or IBRT for short." Ishikawa said. "This journal covered cases dating back to 1999."

A low whistle escaped from Batou's pursed lips. "Makes you wonder if the doctor really has discovered something new."

"False memory syndrome?" Togusa inquired, his interest peaking. He wondered if this would explain the reason for the strange dream he had.

"False Memory Syndrome is not actually a syndrome." Borma answered knowingly. "False memories may exist, but they don't have the characteristics of a syndrome. That was just added to make it sound like a professional diagnosis."

"Then what is it?" Togusa asked, slightly disappointed that this particular syndrome was false and could not explain his problem. He was still hopeful that this information could provide him with some answers. "How does one get false memories then?"

"Therapists working with patients with fears often discover conceivable evidence of sexual or violent abuse when they attempt regression therapy." Borma explained. "Now, if the therapist knows what he is doing, he can project the symptoms of, for example, sexual abuse in a repressed area of childhood. This is how false memories are born."

Togusa listened attentively to Borma's explanation, trying to determine if his dream had any of the characteristics of a false memory.

"Of course, there may be clients that are psychotic." Batou related the only part of the briefing he had payed attention to the first time around. "They may make things up, until even the therapist believes them. Only an inexperienced therapist will fall for that trick. Of course, there will be some therapists without the power of discrimination who may misguide their clients. Although lack of professional grounding and gullibility may be factors in producing false memories, the main reason is the ambition of a couple of quack doctors looking to make a name for themselves at the expense of their patients."

"Impressive, Batou." Saito laughed. "You actually listened a little."

Ishikawa took the lecture from there. "It has been discovered that clients who claimed to have relived sexual abuse by a parent when they were very young remembered something that did not happen. It has led to court cases against parents, shaken over the false accusations of a child and negative publicity. The therapist involved worsened the situation by preventing the child to have any contact with thier denying parents."

"There is partial truth to all of this." Borma concluded. "The more the body is involved in memory, the more rememberable it is. Interestingly, this is one of the main reasons for the development of false memories. The therapist sees what the client feels in their bodily reactions. Reactions such as posture, tension, panting and struggling, shows that a rape has occurred. Even a good actor cannot create that kind of a response without previous experience."

"With that being said, I want to explain how this relates to the case." Motoko said impatiently. Throughout his college career and his professional life, Katsuo showed a great interest in these cases and developed many of his own theories and techniques based on these studies."

"It was from that method of regression therapy that the doctor based his treatment on." Ishikawa said. "The doctor developed this machine after his own cyborization. His colleagues were scrutinous of its results and found the procedure unethical. The doctor tested the machine on himself first, with the help of two of his colleagues, to whom he related evidence that the neurologists have been tinkering with his brain and creating illusions. His colleagues dismissed the project and suggested that it created false memories, but he went on to receive approval for the use of his program. Despite his success, he began to doubt himself and his existence and tried to convince others of his findings."

"It would be nice to know from those two colleagues which cases they know and how often in those cases false memories were involved." Pazu said. He rarely spoke during a briefing, but when he chose to, he always made his point simply.

"With that being said, I suggest we move on to the next order of business." Chief Aramaki said, turning to face the team. "Borma, Ishikawa, you two go through the files, uncover more information on Katsuo's research on False Memory Syndrome. Pazu, do a background search on Katsuo and make a list of his patients and see what you can dig up on their progress."

"Yes sir." They answered in unison.

"Batou, Motoko." The Chief, swivelled his chair to face the two. "You two pay a visit to Katsuo's colleagues. See what you can find out about the doctor's methods."

Togusa gripped his pant legs, anxious that the chief would try to exclude him again. His worry quickly subsided as the Chief turned to face him. "Togusa, I need for you to go undercover as a patient, again. Pretend you are interested in undergoing treatment. Find out all you can about the doctor and his theories on False Memory Syndrome. Perhaps his program has some relation to these homicides." Lastly, the Chief turned to the entire team. "This case has dragged on too long. It's time to solve this issue before it escalates to further disaster."

"Yes sir." Togusa said, grateful to be included in the case, and he could not help but anxiously anticipate another appointment with the quack doctor.

* * *

In the lobby of the Kowasake Institute, Togusa was greeted at the main desk by the same receptionist as the time before.

"Good afternoon, Sir. Do you have an appointment or can I schedule you one?" The woman spoke cheerfully as her job required.

"I have an appointment with Dr. Katsuo at noon." Togusa smiled inwardly as the receptionist recognized him from their previous encounter.

"Mr. Togusa, I remember you and I certainly do not remember scheduling you an appointment." She checked the records on her computer. Reading his name, she lowered her glasses to take a second look. "Well, this can't be right."

"I'll just have a seat until the doctor's ready." Togusa said, leaving her to recheck the records again and again, all the while knowing she had not scheduled an appointment for him. In the waiting room, Togusa returned to the chair beside the in-table which displayed the magazines. He scanned over the titles. The selection was new and he did not recognize any of the magazines from the day before. While leafing through the various titles, Togusa came across a Global News magazine which cover featured an impressive illustration of a cyborg. The image portrayed a prosthetic body with the innocent yet frightening features of a doll. Its dislocated limbs were suspended by its loose threads and wires, much like a marionette. The body was twisted in a grotesque manner and its face displayed a hint of sorrow as if to suggest that life in a shell was a negative existence.

Togusa allowed his eyes to wander from the illustration to the title of the article featured within. _Defining the Indefinable: How Technology has Redefined the Meaning of Existence and Opened the Question What Does it Mean to be Human?_

Intrigued, Togusa lifted the magazine from among the pile. This time, he only crinkled it slightly in his grip. Flipping open the cover, he turned each page carefully until he came to the article of interest. As he turned each page, not a single sheet was torn or bent. 'Major improvement.' He thought, triumphantly. 'Now if only I could hit the center mark during target practice.'

As he read the article he became aware of the author's apparent bias toward cyberized humans, proclaiming that they were no longer humans at all. He also became aware of a presence in the seat beside him. Before he even looked he knew who it was. "Hello, again." Togusa lowered the magazine into his lap and swivelled his head to glance at the girl. "Miki, wasn't it?"

"Mr. Todasa?" The girl struggled to recall his name exactly. Her blond hair fell back as she tilted her head questioningly.

"Togusa," He corrected her. Miki smiled slightly in return. Togusa thought she looked tired for her eyes appeared dull and sunken.

"Mr. Togusa." She said, without smiling. "May I have a sheet of paper so I can draw?"

"Sure." Togusa said softly, concerned for her behavior. He recalled her being very energetic and cheerful, but now she did not even smile as he handed her the cover page of the magazine. Turning the sheet over to the clean side, Miki set the page on the drawing board on her lap and began to draw. As she drew, she hummed quietly to herself. It was not a mirthful child's tune, but rather an unpleasant melody. It disturbed Togusa to hear a child sound so somber.

He returned his attention to the article. Meanwhile, Miki continued to scribble thick lines across the paper. Her hands were still difficult to control and the lines were just as clumsy as the scribbles of her previous drawing. Togusa listened to her mournful song and the harsh sound of the crayon dragging along the slick paper. He knew she must be having a difficult time. He assumed that being cyberized so young must have been a traumatic experience and the strain to her body as she upgraded would be even more painful. He could only guess that her sorrow was caused by the realization of the difficult future that lay ahead. Togusa glanced over as she pressed the crayon through the delicate paper. Without seeming to notice, Miki returned the crayon's waxen tip to an uncolored section and pressed until the crayon snapped in her hand. Unabated by this minor setback, Miki withdrew a red crayon from the box and continued.

"Mr. Togusa, the Doctor will see you now." Katsuo's personal receptionist pulled Togusa's attention away from the girl. In a glance he could tell she was an android. Her lifeless eyes stared unfocused in his direction and as she spoke her face was stuck in a permi-smile. She had all of the characteristics of a doll. Considering Dr. Katsuo's bias against humans and his preference for cyborgs, it only made since to Togusa that his receptionist would be an android.

As he rose from his seat, he stole a glance of Miki's latest masterpiece. Expecting a pleasant drawing of her father, Togusa was surprised to see that she had drawn a monster. Its face and hair were colored with black crayon and its eyes and mouth were scribbled in red. It seemed a fitting creation from any child's nightmare, but there was something about it that bothered Togusa. "What are you drawing?"

"I am drawing daddy." She said quietly, a haunted expression passed over her face. "This is how I remember him."

* * *

"This way, Mr. Togusa." The android directed Togusa down the hall. Her movements and speech were slow and sloppy, and Togusa suspected that she was an older model. Her AI was horribly underdeveloped and her greatest asset seemed to be her pleasing appearance. She came to a sudden stop at the end of the hall. "Please make yourself comfortable. The doctor will be in shortly."

"Thank you." Togusa said, unsure if manners were necessary with a ghostless robot. Upon entering Katsuo's office, Togusa began his investigation. His eyes scanned along the many plaques and certificates proudly displayed on the simple beige walls. He allowed his eyes to rove quickly across the many photographs, stopping briefly on several framed newspaper articles. It was all seemingly innocent. Togusa assumed that if the doctor had come into some trouble with his program the press had been well censored. Togusa examined the papers scattered about the doctor's desk. Sliding a folder over, he was shocked to discover that it was Miki's file. Glancing back into the empty hall, Togusa flipped the folder open. He quickly scanned through the doctor's observations during her sessions. He skimmed through reports of mental and physical abuse and the image of her drawing flashed in his mind. _"He is helping me to remember my daddy." _Togusa recalled her hopeful words._"I don't want to forget daddy."_

"Find anything interesting to read about?" Masaki Kastuo said auspiciously from the doorway. Togusa quickly returned the folder to where he found it as the doctor entered the room and came around his desk. Reclining slightly in his swivelling chair, he lay his hands casually over his lap and waited for Togusa to respond. When he didn't, he smiled unpleasently and leaned forward. "Those files contain private information about my patients, you know."

"Uh, sorry." Togusa said shamefaced at being caught. "I was just curious."

"Have a seat." The doctor impatiently waved him to the chair opposite his own and as if under his spell, Togusa slid into the seat.

"So Mr. Togusa, have you reconsidered undergoing the treatment?" The doctor asked hopefully, pushing his glasses up to the rim of his nose. "Or do you still need more persuasion."

"I want to know more about the procedure before I decide to give it a try." Togusa said bluntly. "Tell me how the process works."

"It is rather simple, really." The doctor smiled, eager to explain the process that he invented. "After the internal memories are transferred from the sub-brain into the computer the images are displayed and analyzed. Once we isolate the time period from which those memories took place we are able to relocate lost memories."

"But how do you distinguish false memories from real ones?" Togusa asked, trying not to sound too fascinated, but ever since he had that dream, his interest in false memories had peaked.

"It is simple once you have the technology to understand and decode the signals." The doctor answered easily. Either he had his answers prepared well in advance or he was not lying. "Anything else? This is your time."

"One more thing." Togusa said. "What is your opinion on False Memory Syndrome? What do you know about that?"

"It is interesting that you ask as my studies have always focused on False Memory Syndrome and cases concerning it. Especially the early cases concerning the occurrences before cybernetics." Katsuo said with building excitement. "I based most of my research on those cases and in fact, it was because of the occurrence of false memories in natural humans that I began to question its contingency in cyberized humans."

"So your saying that False Memory Syndrome is real?" Togusa asked, carefully.

"I would not classify it as a syndrome exactly, but it is a true occurrence among natural and cyberized patients alike." The doctor said, a flash of light washed over the lenses of his glasses. "While I base most of my own theories on the cases involving natural human patients, I choose to focus on how that information relates to cyberized human beings."

"Is it true that you began your studies after your own cyborization?" Togusa asked, trying not to sound like a detective. "Did that have anything to do with it?"

"It is true that my own transition to full prosthetics did inspire the project, but I did not do it simply based on personal interest." The doctor said pensively. "It merely helped to push me onward despite criticism from my colleagues."

"I understand that you tested the machine on yourself." Togusa asked. "How did you go about that?"

"With the aid of my colleagues, of course; however, they dismissed my findings as mere illusions and refused any future aid concerning my project." Katsuo said bitterly, with a glint in his harsh blue eyes. "Now that my program is becoming successful, I do not doubt that they are sorry for dismissing my project so easily."

"What kind of memories did you uncover?" Togusa asked. Now, he was no longer interviewing the doctor for the sake of the case as much as he was questioning him for his own personal interest. "Did you uncover any false memories?"

"Indeed, I did." The doctor said, simply. "I will let you in on a secret that I discovered during my own session concerning those neurologists. I discovered that they do indeed tamper with your mind during maintenance."

"Are you sure of this?" Togusa asked, chilled by his words. He had already heard Dr. Katsuo's accusations during the briefing, but hearing it directly from the doctor himself made the news seem much more momentous."How can you be sure?"

"I can feel it in my ghost." The doctor whispered as a streak of light blanched his lenses, hiding the expression in his eyes. When the light passed by, his face took on a calmer expression."I understand how you may doubt all this. You have not been cyberized long enough to begin questioning your existence."

"I do, but I trust my own memories to figure that out." Togusa said, torn between belief and skepticism.

"You work for a secret organization, don't you Mr. Togusa?" The doctor asked. Togusa gasped slightly in response. "Don't be surprised. I took the liberty of having one of my receptionist do a background check on you. It seems that you work for a very secretive employer. Tell me, what line of work are you in?"

"Public security." Togusa answered truthfully. "That is how I ended up in this shell."

"In such a field, do you ever consider that your mind may be controlled by your superiors in order for you to carry out your duties?" The doctor asked him seriously, his voice taking on a cynical tone. "Perhaps, they created the memories of your injury and cyborization to distract you from the truth. Perhaps you were never human at all."

"That's ridiculous." Togusa said harshly, unnerved and slightly insulted. Until now, he had been absorbed in the doctor's theorology, but his previous distrust of him quickly returned. "Why are you so persistent to convince me to undergo this treatment of yours?"

"I see I have failed to persuade you once more." Masaki Katsuo said somewhat bitterly. He feigned a disappointed frown as he motioned for Togusa to leave."However, my offer remains open for whenever you change your mind. Our appointments are completely confidential so your officials would never even know."

Without a word, Togusa pushed himself from the chair and hurried to the door. He had the information he needed and the confirmation that this man really was a quack doctor.

"By the way." Dr. Katsuo's voice stopped him in the doorway. Togusa froze in expectation of what words would follow. "Good luck on your investigation."

* * *

The elevator rose as deliberately as ever, but to Togusa its speed had declined to an unbearable tempo. The mournful cries of the pulleys and the moaning of the gears only added to his anxiety. He glanced out the window, hoping to absorb some of the clouds' refreshing calm, but was only further depressed by the bleak darkness of twilight. Now, the harsh neon lights from the city below glowed with building intensity and the buzzing nightlife tore into the stillness of dusk. His apprehension grew and without an outlet to release his stress, Togusa found himself lost in his vexation.

'Could the doctor be telling the truth? Could the Chief be controlling my mind through my memories?' He searched his mind for the answer. Togusa considered the doctor's words carefully. Katsuo had claimed that his machine had the capability to distinguish false memories from real ones, yet Togusa wondered if the machine itself did not create the fantasies. He remembered what he saw when he dove into the victim's e-brain. For a brief moment, their minds had been linked and his own memories and thoughts had melded with the other man's. Through the net, he had become connected to this man and had even witnessed the final moment's of his life. His affinity toward the man had only grown stronger with the connection of his daughter who had robbed both men of their lives. Now, as he recalled the memory, he relived the man's emotions, his misery and his bewilderment, as his daughter accused him of crimes he did not commit. 'If her memories were false then maybe...?"

The elevator came to a sudden stop, disrupting Togusa's thoughts. As the doors slid open he prepared himself for the Tachikomas, but this time they did not bombard him. Togusa found them conjugated in the lab, waiting for their turn for mandatary maintainance and analysis. Togusa paused to watch as the technicians opened their heads and tinkered inside. The Tachikoma's seemed oblivious to what was happening and carried out an argument as if nothing was a mis.

"I remember, there was a ghost inside the box I found." Batou's favorite chortled and seemingly sighed. "That was a once in a lifetime find."

"What are you talking about?" The ditzy Tachikoma whined, its eyes rolling about. "I am the one who found the box!"

"That's not true, it was me!" The squeaky one cried, throwing its arms in the air. "I found it!"

"We have already been through this, before." Batou's favorite piped in. "I was the one receiving natural oil so I'm the one who found it."

As Togusa listened to their bickering he considered that the Tachikomas were controlled by individual AIs, capable of speech, curiosity, and even a personality. Though they possessed individual AI, their memories were synchronized daily. This often lead to identity confusion such as the current argument. Paradoxically, their personalities were distinct from one another, despite the fact that they shared memories.

Togusa often noticed the Major's negative reaction to the Tachikomas' fast developing AI and he wondered if she ever had their progress stunted during analysis. Now, he began to seriously question if his memories were also controlled by Section Nine. This reminded him of a case where they arrested a man who had become a victim of a ghost hack. A successful cyberhacker had rewritten his entire memory, making him believe that he was a married man undergoing a terrible divorce. In his pocket, he had carried of picture of himself which he believed was a photograph of his daughter. The man's conviction that this child had existed still haunted Togusa to this day and Togusa wondered if he too was a victim of an assimilated experience, perhaps created by technicians here at Section Nine.

"Togusa." Motoko called out to him from the end of the hall. Togusa saw her coming and panicked. Without a second thought, he turned and headed back toward the elevator.

"Togusa!" Motoko tried to call him back, confused by his sudden reaction toward her. "Togusa, where are you going?"

Ignoring her calls, Togusa hurried into the elevator and frantically pressed the button repeatedly until it closed. As the doors slid shut he watched the Major's surprised face disappear between the sliding doors. In the safety of the elevator, he withdrew his wallet from his pocket and pulled out his family photograph. He stared into the picture, absorbing the familiar image of his wife and daughter smiling for the camera. He was standing with them, his daughter fondly hugging him at the waist. Togusa examined the photograph closely, trying to see what it really showed. He wondered if this photograph was really just a picture of himself with a dog or if it was a photograph of someone else entirely. 'My family could be false.' Togusa thought frantically. 'My entire life could be no more than an assimilated memory.'

As Togusa returned the photograph to the pocket of his wallet, the doctor's warning reverberated once more in his mind._"The truth can only be found through science, a truth, no religion can ever hope to realize. In a world where artificial intelligence makes true intelligence obsolete, when our own minds and memories fail us, only technology can determine what is true and what is a creation of the net." _

With those words haunting his mind, Togusa decided that it was time to give the doctor's treatment a try.

* * *

Note: I hope you all enjoyed this chapter:) For now on it is all action and suspense so I hope you all enjoy. The next chapter may be a while in coming, so I made this chapter extra long. As always, feel free to R and R. I enjoy hearing from all of you and if you have any thoughts concerning False Memory Syndrome please visit my profileor feel free to send me an e-mail. 


	10. Chapter 10: External Memories

Disclaimer: I do not own Ghost in the Shell, but I do own my original characters.

Note: I would like to apologize to everyone for how long this chapter took to complete. I hope you all enjoy it. Things have really heated up so this chapter should prove to be exciting.

Note: I would like to dedicate this chapter to Polerman for the nice comment he made about me in his profile-I read these people-cause I want to get to know my readers and my favorite authors. I know it's weird, but hey, you did not type those profiles for nothing. Again, thank you Polerman:)

Note: I want to thank you all for showing so much interest in False Memory Syndrome. I noticed that there were a lot of hits on my profile page so I am glad to see that you all took an interest in learning more about FMS. You are all really awesome!

Chapter 10: External Memories

Electricity radiated from the buzzing machinery. The air was filled with energy as the electronic current seethed from the hot wires. The insipid room became electric and even seemed to glow. The once austere beige walls were suffused in an effervescent light. Immersed within the atomic glow, Togusa felt himself suspended by many powerful wires. From their silken, threadlike appearance they seemed fragile and flimsy, but there would be no breaking free from those wires if he suddenly changed his mind. The delicate wires held him securely to the small chair like a defenseless fly caught in a spider's web. He was blinded by the intense light and the memory of that light from his dream, combined with the claustrophobic atmosphere, nearly caused him to panic. The rhythmic drone of the machines filled the quiet little room, calming Togusa only slightly with its metrical pulse.

'Don't back out now.' Togusa told himself sternly, gripping the arms of the chair as if to hold himself down in case the wires broke. He closed his eyes against the light and focused his mind on his goal. 'I have to know if my memories are real...if my life, my family ever existed.' Memories resonated through his mind like a home video. He saw clearly, his wife's face unveiled on their wedding day and his daughter proudly displaying her first loose tooth. These images were so vibrant and full of life. 'They can't be false.' He told himself desperately, his mind pleading in turmoil. 'They have to be real.'

"Are we ready to begin?" Doctor Katsuo smiled as he came into Togusa's line of vision. His glasses reflected the harsh light like two glowing beams and he smiled cynically as if he knew an amusing anecdote that only he could comprehend. "Comfortable?"

"Not really." Togusa tried not to sound too ungrateful, considering that the doctor was performing this procedure after hours. He knew this was completely against regulations, but he could not wait another agonizing minute without knowing the truth. He sighed and braced himself for whatever lay ahead. "I'm ready."

"Alright, then." Doctor Katsuo stood behind his patient. "I'm going to lock down your sensory functions and power down your networking capabilities and they will remain off until the procedure is complete."

Togusa braced himself for this, but as he felt himself lose function over his body he felt the panic rising. Only his vision and hearing abilities remained on so that the doctor could communicate with him. He breathed deeply, trying to calm himself. Then the doctor came around to face Togusa. "How are you feeling?"

Togusa tried to voice his concern but he could not speak. He moved his lips and tongue as if to talk, but he merely mouthed his mute discomfort. He guessed that it was not important if he could communicate with the doctor as long as the doctor could speak to him. All Togusa could do was stare into the blinding light as the doctor did his work.

Smiling, Dr. Katsuo turned away from his patient and sat at his computer where Togusa could no longer see him. Togusa's pupils darted rapidly between each corner of his straining eyes, anxiously searching for the doctor who he had placed all of his trust in. "Relax, Mr. Togusa." He heard the doctor's reassuring voice somewhere within the luminous glow. "Now, brace yourself. The procedure will begin now."

There was a short, high pitched blip followed by a wave of static. The static cleared and Togusa's vision was overcome by a rush of images and sounds. Within the blur, memories rushed before his mind, carried by the electrical current. To his horror, these were not the memories his identity lay so concretely in. Instead of images of his parent's, his team members, his wife and daughter, visions of the true nature of his actual existence were revealed to him through a series of disturbing images. He realized, with bitter horror, that he was not the man called Togusa nor had he ever been human.

Togusa watched with frightened amazement as he relived his construction, an exact simulation of the natural process of creation. He saw the precise formation of the titanium structure which perfectly imitated the human skeleton. The intricate joints of a human hand were reproduced with small mechanical joints, held together by wires that replicated ligaments. He saw the facsimile skin fused to the artificial bone and muscle structure. Through his veins white fluid ran instead of red blood. Compiled completely out of artificial materials, his body perfectly imitated a real human body.

Togusa watched in disturbed awe as his lifeless body floated to the surface of a tank of water bathed in a golden light. His body was curled in the fetal position, mimicking the position of an unborn infant in the womb. As his body broke through the surface of its watery womb, it tore away from its wires like a child cut from its umbilical cord. In this perfect simulation of natural birth, his lifeless body was born, endowed with false memories of a previously lived life and a family. His childhood, his family, the accident with the girl, were all false memories created to pacify the lifeless android into doing exactly what Section Nine required. In his mind, Togusa heard voices. He heard Aramaki's rasping voice instructing the technicians to enact his deceit during Togusa's maintenance. He was horrified by the reason that Section Nine had imbedded him with false memories and he felt betrayed by the man he had once respected most. The Chief revealed to the technicians that through his new treatment, Doctor Katsuo had learned of such cyber scandals as the ones that Section Nine committed. So they invented the little girl to personally involve Togusa in the case so that he would arrest the doctor before he could expose the truth. Togusa had unknowingly done exactly what Section Nine wanted their puppet to do until now.

As suddenly as the procedure had began it came to an end. The images disappeared as if into a tunnel and Togusa gasped aloud as he regained his senses. His head spun and he closed his eyes against the light which blinded him once more. The sounds and images continued to replay themselves in his mind.

"Tell me, Mr. Togusa, what did you see?" Dr. Katsuo's sympathetic voice broke through the static in his head. Togusa opened his eyes to see the dark shadow of the doctor silhouetted against the light, his glasses blanched in the luminosity. Togusa peered through the shining rays of his glasses to meet the blue eyes behind the piercing lenses. When his eyes met the doctor's he answered boldly, "The truth."

* * *

A yellow city bus cruised silently into the twilight, passing through the lonely streets on the outskirts of town. Togusa held on tight to the hand grip which dangled from the bar along the ceiling of the bus. His free hand rested causally in the pocket of his kaki suit pants. His heavy body wavered only slightly as the bus came to a sudden stop. He was not sure how long he had been riding this bus nor was he sure when he would get off, but he knew this was not his stop. In his daze like state, he barely noticed as the bus emptied and refilled itself with passengers. He vaguely noticed an elderly woman and her granddaughter come to sit in the seat beside him, nor was he aware of the beautiful young business woman standing behind him, fussing lightly over a run in her hose. Apart from this minor flaw, her appearance was pristine. Somewhere, behind him, he could hear the muffled whispering of two school girls as they road home from school. Togusa tried to ignore the other passengers, as they only served as a harsh reminder of how false his own identity was. Unlike these people, Togusa did not have a home or a family to return to. He was not even sure where his home was. He had believed that he lived in a cozy little house in the suburbs, but he feared his real home was a small one person apartment, a bachelor pad for a loner.

'Where does the newborn go from here?' Togusa asked himself as his attention drifted out the window at the passing city. Buildings and businesses blurred before his eyes. Togusa watched these places as if searching for a new home. One of the passengers pulled the cord, signaling the bus to stop. A block away, at an abandoned street corner, the bus came to a sudden stop. Togusa suddenly felt compelled to exit the bus. As he stepped off onto a cracked cement walkway, he realized that he had road all the way to the slums of downtown. Jagged cracks crept across the once smooth sidewalk like shadowed veins. The deteriorating cement crumbled beneath his feet as he strolled along it. Togusa passed local shops, long abandoned like tombstones marking the death of this town. Thin scales of old paint, once brilliant hues, molted from their worn outer walls and fell to the brown earth. The rank tang of rot escaped from porous wood and hung thick in the air. The doors, boarded with corked planks and rusted nails, warned Togusa to pass by. Broken shards of glass littered the fractured walkway and dirty children ran barefoot across the street, their screams piercing the sullen hoary sky.

As Togusa wandered through the slums, he passed by a barber shop, the candy cane swirls no longer turning across the pole. Next to it was an old restaurant lit dimly with electric lighting. Not one of these buildings beckoned to be entered so Togusa continued without purpose, down the sidewalk. He soon came upon a dark narrow walkway. As he passed through it, he heard the echo of children's voices shouting outside. He thought he caught the familiar whimsical voice of his daughter playing among the other children, but he knew even if she were real, she would never be on this side of town. Still, he could not shake the overwhelming sensation her voice sent through him, a feeling he could not identify that beckoned him onward. At the end of the dark walkway, Togusa came to a small store, its entrance at the end of a narrow wall. A large blue carp hovered above the doorway as if it was swimming in air. On either side of the door, colorful stained glass windows emitted a specter of light which invited Togusa to enter.

"What is this sensation?" Togusa asked himself as the feeling grew stronger. He glanced up at a small sign above the doorway. "The Memory Store." He read allowed.

Because ghost hacking made internal memories unreliable, memory shops, such as this, were popular and items such as clothes, toys, and photographs were stored in dusty two story buildings to be kept safe under the watchful eyes of nostalgic old women. Togusa knew none of the items within this store carried any memories belonging to himself but the sensation drew him in.

His arrival was announced by the sweet ringing of a bell suspended above the doorway. Togusa stood a moment in the doorway, absorbing the cluttered, eclectic atmosphere. He could smell the strong aroma of scented incense and the musty odor of belongings long forgotten and untouched, cluttering the dusty shelves. Even more overpowering was the psychic imprint that he could feel from the items within. Memories poured from the objects cluttered on the shelves, the moth eaten clothes on the hanging rack, and from the various items suspended on the walls. As he stared up at a colorful mobile hanging from the wall, he felt that there was something comforting about this place. Now, Togusa understood that it was nostalgia that had summoned him to this store. Togusa passed by rows of toys, clothes, and photo albums, sensing the memories attached to them. Togusa felt the psychic energy growing stronger as he stepped deeper into the store and he followed the sensation up the stairs, each wooden board creaking beneath his weight. It was almost as if they were beckoning for him to climb higher. Togusa came to the landing on the second story where he paused to absorb the overwhelming sense of nostalgia. He stopped for a moment to examine a small green sports car with the sunroof brought down. In the car, sat the bodies of two small children.

"Prosthetic bodies?" Togusa stared into the bright claret eyes of the little girl. He could sense a feeling of sadness from them. Togusa stepped away from their depressing aura and searched the shelves for the object which he felt beckoned to him. He knew it was desperate, but he could not believe that he was not human, that he was not Togusa.

Finally, the sensation lead him to a porcelain doll propped comfortably in a baby doll crib. It's glossy eyes appeared lonely and it seemed to call to him for company. Slowly, he took it into his hand. He recognized it as the same doll he remembered giving to his daughter for her last birthday. He knew it did not belong to his daughter for she did not exist. Togusa clutched the doll, desperately searching it for evidence of his daughter's existence. He felt a strong psychic imprint and a connection between the toy and his daughter. 'Please belong to her.' He squeezed the small doll; her lifeless face seemed to cry out in protest. 'She has to be alive!'

"Can I help you?" The whimsical voice of an elderly woman pulled him from his despair. He turned to face the woman who smiled patiently at him. "Does that doll belong to you?"

"This doll..." He whispered, looking down at the little porcelain girl in his hand, no more alive than he. He knew that it did not belong to his daughter, that the connection he felt was only a result of the fabricated memories. "Would you tell me about it."

"She spoke to you, didn't she?" The woman smiled, revealing a face made more beautiful with age. Despite deep wrinkles set around her small red lips, her eyes were bright and vivacious. "Well, come have a seat and I'll tell you about her."

Togusa followed the woman to a small coffee table and sat opposite her. The woman held out one soft pale hand and Togusa relinquished the doll into her care. The woman sat for a moment and studied the doll. She treated it gently, with the same compassion that one would show a living being. "I received this doll only recently. This doll belonged to a young girl who came by my store only three days ago, but it already holds such a place in my heart."

"The girl." Togusa said, watching the doll. "Tell me about her."

"She was such a sad child." The woman spoke, adjusting the red shawl around her shoulders. "This doll was a birthday present from her father. She had begged and begged him for this doll."

Togusa smiled in recollection of his own daughter begging him for that very same doll. But, then he had to remind himself that this memory was a false one.

"She said it was her favorite birthday present, as her father's gifts usually were." The woman continued, smiling. "You see, she didn't see her father very much for he worked long hours everyday. Some nights he did not even come home. This doll served as a source of comfort for the girl and whenever she held it, she felt closer to her father."

"Why did the girl leave it here?" Togusa asked, already knowing the answer. "Something happened to her father?"

"Yes, it seems a short while ago her father was injured in an accident." The woman answered, no longer smiling. "The wounds he received were quite serious and in order to save his life he was forced to receive a full prosthetic body."

"How did the child feel about that?" Togusa asked, his eyes lowered to the table as he thought about his own daughter's response to his cyberization. Again, he had to remind himself that this memory was only a fabricated one.

"It was difficult for her to accept this in her young mind and she took it very hard." The woman answered sadly, running her fingers through the doll's silken hair. "You see, while her father appeared the same on the outside, he could not control his body's fine motor skills. He was unable to touch his daughter without hurting her and she became frightened of him. He became a monster in her eyes."

"So she disposed of the doll in order to rid herself of the memories of her father." Togusa said bitterly as he recalled his daughter's harsh words when she saw his prosthetic body for the first time. He knew this memory was not real but it hurt anyway.

"Not at all." The woman said. "It turns out that her father disappeared nearly four days ago. That is why the child brought the doll here. She told me that it was her fault that her father ran away and that this was the last gift that she had received from him. She asked that I keep the doll and the memory of her father safe for her."

"Did her father ever return to her?" Togusa asked, staring at the table.

"As far as I know, he is still missing." The woman said after pausing a moment in thought. "But every day, after school, she visits the doll in hopes that he will come home."

Disappointed, Togusa peered into the doll's sad face. He felt for the child but even more he felt the loss of his own daughter whose false life had closely mirrored this girl's. 'Well, thank you for the story, but I must be leaving."

"You're leaving so soon?" The woman said, placing the doll back into the crib before returning to the coffee table. "In a few minuets the girl will arrive. Wouldn't you like to meet her?"

"No." Togusa said, carefully retrieving the photograph of his family from his pocket. He looked his last on the family that Section Nine had invented for him and placed the photograph in the crib, beside the doll, leaving their memories behind with it. "There is nothing for me here."

* * *

Togusa stood in the dim glow of the exit of the Memory Store. The incredible sensation of nostalgia was gone, replaced by the numb feeling of mourning. Without a destination or a purpose, Togusa continued his journey through the slums of the city. As he strolled along the dimly lit shops, he thought about the little girl but more so, he thought about his own daughter who never truly lived. He knew his family was no longer a part of his life, they never had been, but the loss he felt for them was real.

'Was it worth knowing?' He asked himself as he passed a child standing on tiptoes, peering into a display at a hat shop. The child's mother pulled at her arm, encouraging her daughter to come. The child whined in protest, pleading for one of the hats displayed in the window. Her mother shook her head mildly and the child started to cry. Finally, the mother gave in with a sigh and together they entered the store.

'Family is security.' He thought bitterly to himself as he continued. 'Mine was a false one, a way to keep me employed for Section Nine. I thought there were people who needed me, who cared for me...but it takes life to create life. An android cannot create life, it only mimics life.'

A storm was approaching from the east, churning the black bowls of the sea. Togusa heard the water churning underneath the bridge as he crossed. Another storm built inside himself as he made his way back to the city. He stopped at the center of the bridge and withdrew his Mateba. For a moment, he thought about shooting himself in the braincase and passing into the net, but his applicated years as a cop had only taught him that suicide was useless. Holding the weapon in his hands, he felt a strong psychic imprint connecting him to this gun. He knew this relation only derived from the fact that Section Nine had issued him this firearm, but the correlation was far more personal to Togusa. Every cyborized member of Section Nine had an external memory, an object which served as a reminder of their true existence. Motoko's was a silver wrist watch that she received as a gift after her final body swap. Batou had several external memories including weight equipment and his dog Gabriel. All of these items served as reminders of their humanity. This handgun had been his external memory along with his family photograph. These items had served as the only proof of who he was, but they were simply alibis for a false existence.

"Those bastards!" Togusa hissed, leaning against the railing as anger surfaced through the numbness. It had never occurred to him that the photograph had been posed. He wondered if the child and the woman could even exist, but he knew they were not his own family. He mourned the loss of his family as if they had died and he felt the unimaginable pain of losing their presence in his life. "How could they be so cruel?"

Togusa held the revolver tightly in his hand, hating Aramaki and all of Section Nine for creating him and for deceiving him. He then began to wonder if any of the other members of Section Nine were who they thought they were, or if Aramaki had mislead them all. Pushing himself away from the bridge he came to a decision on what he needed to do. Sliding his revolver back into its holster, he strolled to the end of the street and got on the next bus heading back into the city.

* * *

A single gunshot range out through the deserted range. A solitary gold cartridge fell empty upon the cold floor. Togusa lowered his smoking weapon and waited with anticipation to see if he had made any improvement. The light came on behind the target, revealing his accuracy.

"Damn it." Togusa hissed when he saw that his aim had barely improved. Gritting his teeth in frustration, he fired several more rounds. These shots were even more inaccurate and Togusa forced himself to focus. He steadied his trembling hands and taking a deep calming breath, fired once more. This time, he saw improvement and a sadistic grin spread across his face. Keeping his new cool, he expended the entire magazine into the target. His smile widened as the light flickered back on to reveal several holes very near to the bulls-eye.

'I may not be the man called Togusa.' He thought as he expelled the spent cartridges onto the floor and reloaded. 'But I am the android who favors this gun.'

With an unnatural calm, Togusa fired another round into the target. Each shot came closer to the bull's-eye. He reloaded faster and fired with improved speed and accuracy. His connection to his false identity had made him unsure and inaccurate. Now that he was no longer bound by his identity, his mind was clear and he could fire the weapon with ease. 'I am no longer the rookie of Section Nine nor am I the man named Togusa.' He told himself as he fired again. 'Now that I am no longer bound to my false memories I am free to act upon my own accord as a new being.'

Gunshots rang into the dark hall, echoing against the walls. Togusa's ears ached and his shaking hands tried to rebel, but his mind was focused and he forced his hands to obey their commands. He squeezed the trigger once more, and the bullet barely grazed the center.

'Aramaki created me. He is Frankenstein and I am his monster.' Togusa thought as the target transformed before his eyes into the 'old ape' himself. 'Before the abomination can be free he must first kill his creator.'

Togusa carefully aimed his weapon. His eyes peered down the hall. He steadied his hands and his mind. Sure of his accuracy and confident with his body, he fired. The gun clicked quietly. He had already expended all of the bullets within the magazine. He quickly emptied the spent cartridges and reloaded.

Togusa pointed the revolver down the hall and took aim at the center of the target. He gasped for breath, panting with fatigue. His entire body was trembling and his hands shook violently as they fought against his commands and he struggled to control them. His eyes strained to focus and he felt his entire body giving out on him. Closing his eyes, he fired a single shot.

Exhausted, he lowered the smoking revolver to his side. He slowly opened his eyes to see the result of his final shot. The light came on, revealing a perfect hole in the center of the target. Togusa knew he was ready to complete his task. He lowered his eyes to examine the revolver, smoking in his hand. The sweat stains, the finger prints were really his own. Section Nine had given him this token and they had taught him how to use it. 'This is my only true external memory.' He thought bitterly. 'They issued me this weapon and in doing so they have armed me with the necessary tool to kill Aramaki.'

* * *

Note: I hope that you all enjoyed that last chapter. The next chapter should be posted shortly. Feel free to leave a review, I love to hear from all of you:) 


	11. Chapter 11: Confrontation

Disclaimer: I do not own Ghost in the Shell, but I do own my original characters.

Note: I am sorry this chapter did not come out as soon as I had hoped, but I got overwhelmed with essays and had to put it off. At least it did not take as long as the last chapter:)

Note: I really enjoy all of your reviews. To The Light of the Shadows in particular, I really liked the dialog you wrote at the beginning of your post so I replicated it a bit in this chapter. Hope you enjoy:)

Chapter 11: Confrontation

The elevator rose to the pinnacle of the heavens like a metallic chariot whisking away the spirit of a fallen warrior. However, the soul it bore this evening was not disposed to accept his solemn end, but was still armed and prepared for battle. Togusa's expression, as he contemplated his decision, was as placid as the sunset beyond the thick glass window. He felt a mutual relation between himself and the dusk for their tranquility was only a prelude to the danger that would follow their peaceful facade. Carefully, with deft hands, Togusa loaded his weapon. Before returning Mateba to its holster, he stopped to examine it. The polished metal reflected the golden sheen casts by the sunset. The leather grip bore the marks of its master's fingers. Togusa aligned his fingers with each print and was nearly overcome by the excitement it brought him when they matched. If he were human, this phenomenon would have moved him to tears, but he was only a puppet capable of mimicking joy.

Togusa remembered how the birth of his daughter had moved him to such tears. The first time he had held her small body in his arms he had been overcome by a joy that felt more like sorrow. The power of this emotion had overwhelmed him and he had sobbed violently as if mourning his inability to put into words the joy he felt in the miracle that he was holding in his arms. Togusa reminded himself that this was only a fabricated experience and that this miracle had never happened. The emotion he remembered feeling so strongly he had never experienced before, until now that he was holding the only object that was a piece of his identity. 'This is all I have.' He thought, returning the gun to its holster, concealed at his side. He pulled his jacket over it to make sure that it was hidden. The elevator came to a sudden stop and the doors rattled open as if stalling the passenger's next actions, but he was more determined now then ever to go through with his plan. With the memory of his false daughter fresh in his mind, he stepped out of the elevator and made his way to the conference room where Aramaki would be waiting for his puppet to return.

* * *

"Well, look whose decided to grace us with his presence." Batou smirked, unable to contain himself as Togusa arrived late to yet another briefing. "We are unworthy."

"Oh, bite me." Togusa tried to put on a playful facade in front of his team members, but he could not hide the grim expression on his face as he took a seat across from Batou

"Togusa, where have you been?" The Major's greeting was less than welcoming. "You were supposed to report back to HQ four days ago."

"Sorry, Major, I had some...trouble scheduling an appointment with the doctor." Togusa answered unconvincingly. "He couldn't see me until yesterday."

"Is that why you were running in autistic mode the entire time?" The Major did not seem convinced. "Where were you and why didn't you contact us?"

"When I couldn't get in to see the doctor that afternoon I scheduled for the next vacant slot." Togusa replied feebly. "Until then, I was home, going over case files."

"Well, before you decide to take a vacation, let us know first." The Chief said, swiveling in his chair to face Togusa directly. "We don't need any more fooling around on this case."

"Right, Chief." Togusa feigned shame, but inside he was anticipating the moment when he would exact his revenge on the 'old ape.'

"Well, now that your here, you can fill us in on how your appointment went." Motoko said not amused. Togusa could tell she was still angry with him. He felt she was hiding something from him which made him even more uneasy.

"He's not our man." Togusa said firmly.

"What do you mean? The man is a quack." Batou smirked, crossing his thick arms across his barrel chest. "All we need is one hard piece of evidence to arrest him."

"I know it looks suspicious, but he really is innocent." Togusa said defensively. "I saw how his procedure is performed and it really works. It is not a lie."

"Well if it isn't the doctor, than who is creating these false memories?" The major seemed to ask him exclusively.

Togusa meet her belligerent stare. "I don't know."

"Well, what we do know is this, whoever is behind these hackings is still out there and has been keeping himself busy." Ishikawa brought the investigation back on track. "It seems there has been another victim. This time it was a five year old girl."

As he revealed this piece of information the image of a little girl with blond chin length hair appeared on the screen. Togusa immediately recognized the blue-eyed child. "Miki." He gasped aloud, stiffening in his chair.

"Her name was Agawa Miki." Ishikawa spoke of the dead child without emotion. She was nothing more than a statistic to him and the rest of Section Nine. "She began seeing the doctor about a month ago. According to the doctor's notes, she was making tremendous progress, but then several nights ago, her body was found smashed on a sidewalk below her family's twelve-story apartment complex. She was reported to have been seen jumping from the balcony in order to take her own life. Her braincase was smashed and she was pronounced dead on site."

Togusa was shaking now, not as much from the shock of her death, but from the disgust he felt about Ishikawa's unsympathetic objectivism. 'She was a child.' He thought. 'How can they be so unfeeling?'

"Why didn't she retaliate like the other victims?" Batou asked seriously. "What could the hacker gain from her death?"

"Records show that she was undergoing treatment in order to regain repressed memories of her deceased father." Borma answered just as matter-a-factly as Ishikawa. "She was in the care of her mother during the time of her death. Perhaps it was her mother who the hacker meant to die."

'They are lying.' Togusa told himself in disbelief. 'Miki isn't dead.'

"We still haven't proven that there is any connection between the hacker and the victims or what the hacker's motives are, exactly." Motoko continued. "For all we know these could be random acts of terrorism."

"She's right." The Chief said. "It's still too early for us to make these kinds of assumptions. However, that does not mean that we can rule out key suspects, including the doctor who is still on the top of the list."

'I understand now.' Togusa tried to hide his alarm. 'They are making this up so that I'll help them arrest the doctor. They want to silence him...and they want me to do it.'

"His colleagues agree, the guys a psycho." Batou said sadistically. "He went nuts after his cyberization. He became so paranoid that they say he filled his own mind with applicated memories to appease himself during the initial test."

"So the guy gave himself false memories in order to avoid reality." Pazu said, sighing a puff of smoke before returning the cigarette to his lips. "He created a new existence for himself out of lies."

"The man's living in a fantasy world." Batou laughed. "Who needs to see the therapist?"

'Those bastards!' Togusa's entire body was shuddering in rage. 'How dare they mock him! They don't even know if their existence is real!'

"The guy's an obvious lunatic." Batou continued. "Let's just arrest him now."

"I'm afraid it's not that simple." The Chief reprimanded him. "We need substantial evidence in order to issue an arrest."

"He's right." Motoko said. "We don't have any real proof to use against him."

"Togusa, what did you uncover from your last undercover appointment with him?" The Chief asked him impatiently.

"Nothing!" Togusa said abruptly. He would not allow them to get any information out of him. "He isn't the one we're after!"

"Calm down, little guy." Batou raised his palms as if defending himself from Togusa's scorn. "The guy's a villain."

"He is not!" Togusa rose from the couch to make himself appear more opposing to Batou. "His program, it really works!"

"How the hell would you know that?" Batou snarled as he stood to meet his opponent. Togusa wavered a bit as the larger cyborg towered over him. "Don't you know that son of a bitch is using that machine to hack into the minds of innocent children? Don't you care at all what that bastard is doing? He's turning those children into killing machines!"

"That's not true!" Togusa cried out desperately, trembling under the large cyborgs fierce gaze. He tried to match it but his own weak gaze faltered. "You can't prove that!"

"A child is dead because of him!" Batou shouted above Togusa's own weak pleas. Batou pointed to the innocent young face projected on the screen above them. "He murdered that girl, and for what?"

"She's not dead!" Togusa cried out, covering his ears so he could only hear the noise within his own mind. He shut his eyes against the familiar face of the little girl. "Your lying!"

"That's enough!" The Chief cut in before Batou could respond. "This is not accomplishing anything. Now, I want the rest of you to take a break. Togusa, you stay here. I wish to speak with you alone."

'What?' Togusa lifted his head from his hands. In his mind he heard the chief's voice requesting his reprogramming. 'He knows...he'll erase my memories...and the truth.'

Togusa tried to appear calm as the other members left the room. He felt their stares penetrating through his outer shell. They were aware that he knew the truth and the price he would pay for knowing.

He waited a few moments before turning to face the Chief. The 'old ape' looked weary and frail, his age finally revealed in his anxious state. Togusa took note of his weakened condition and decided that this would be the best time to carry out his plan now that they were alone. He placed his hand upon the holster where his revolver rested within.

"Togusa, if you recall, when I allowed you to remain on this investigation, it was under the stipulation that if I felt the need I would remove you from the case." The Chief finally spoke sternly. "It has become apparent to me that this case is too much for you in your emotional state and I strongly think that the time has come to remove you from the case."

"Are you afraid?" Togusa asked him quietly, as his hand came in contact with the leather grip. "You know I know the truth."

"What are you talking about?" Aramaki seemed genuinely confused, but Togusa knew it was all an act. "What's this about?"

"You are just afraid that I will reveal your dirty scandal!" Togusa shouted, stepping forward as his fingers curled around the handle. "How you create puppets with false memories in order to do Section Nine's dirty work!"

"I don't know what that doctor has been telling you but I assure you it's all nonsense and lies." Aramaki said. "Can't you see he is trying to throw you off his trail?"

"Liar!" Togusa cried, drawing his weapon and taking aim at Aramaki's head. The Chief froze, his eyes wide in shock. "I am not your puppet anymore!"

"Togusa, put that gun away, now." Aramaki tired to remained calm. He was an expert, but the fear still shown in his eyes. "Why are you doing this?"

"Why? Why?" Togusa shuddered in disgust, the gun rattling in his shaking hand. His finger tightened around the trigger. "You filled my mind with false memories of a daughter and a life that never existed in order to use me and you ask why? You sick bastard!"

"That's not true and you know that." The Chief's eyes followed the shaking end of the gun. "Don't be foolish."

"You cannot control me anymore!" Togusa shouted, stepping closer until the end of the gun was pressed into the chief's forehead. The old man's eyes rolled up to meet the cold steal object that was pushing against his flesh, threatening in a flash of heat and lead, to end his life. Togusa pressed the gun deeper into Aramaki's skin. "I am not your puppet!"

Togusa met Aramaki's frightened gaze like a beast, taking pleasure in his prey's fear. Savoring the power he held over his creator, he steadied himself, and tightened his finger around the trigger. In moments it would be over. His entire body tensed in preparation for the final act. He pulled the trigger. But the bullet did not make contact with Aramaki's head. As the gun was fired, Motoko had pulled his arm away, sending the bullet ricocheting into the ceiling. Even though the shot had been successfully thwarted, she did not let his arm go. With one powerful, inhuman hand, she twisted his wrist completely around, nearly snapping his wrist apart, but Togusa would not relinquish his firearm. He simply smiled at her and laughed. "Nice try, but I turned my pain receptors off."

"Togusa!" Motoko gasped in surprise, her red eyes wide in alarm. She had not expected This. Before she could respond, Togusa whirled into a high kick. His foot made direct contact with her face. Motoko was taken by surprise by this show of pysical control which he had not displayed since his cyberization. The force of his kick sent her sprawling and she released his arm. Even though he was free of her hold, his right arm had been rendered useless and the contorted jumble of torn ligaments and wires hung uselessly at his side, like a broken puppet. He took the gun into his left hand and took aim at Motoko.

Before he could pull off an clear shot, Motoko leapt from the floor and dove at him. With a strangled shout, she brought her fist square into his jaw. Togusa's head snapped back and he stumbled backwards at the power of her punch. He regained his balance and took aim at her once more. Before he could pull the trigger, she brought her leg up high and kicked the gun from his hand. Togusa watched Mateba clatter to the floor at the opposite side of the room. He turned to face Motoko, determined to beat her.

Before her foot could even retouch the floor she brought the other leg around and kicked him hard in the face. He went down heavy, his body crashing to the floor in a heap of twisted limbs. As he tried to rise off the floor Motoko leapt high into the air and landed on top of him, her foot came down on his stomach and he was grateful that his pain receptors were not on to feel her boot crushing his body. He saw her reach behind to her back pocket to retrieve a key and panicked. He reached up and took her face in his left hand, squeezing her head between his fingers. Her face held no expression as he attempted to crush it. He watched her right eye between his middle and ring finger as it bulged slightly under the pressure of his fingers. Her face contorted painfully, but the structure would not cave in. Her sunglasses were not as strong, and they shattered, the shards burst between his fingers, cutting his skin as they fell to the floor. Togusa was amazed by the bodily harm she was enduring for the sake of Aramaki. Meeting the cold gaze of her eyes between his fingers, he growled. "Tell, me, why are you protecting that old fool!"

"I'm not!" She shouted, taking his arm in her hand and crushing it in her grasp. Togusa's finger's loosened in response and she freed her face from his grasp. In one powerful motion she flipped Togusa onto his stomach and planted her foot onto his spine to hold him down. She swept the hair away from his neck and snapped the key into his terminals. In an instant, his mind was cleared and everything came into perspective. He could hear Aramaki moaning quietly behind his desk and realized at once what he had done. He peered at Motoko from the corners of his eyes. Her expression was stern but calm. With her free hand, she removed the lens-less frames from her face and said. "I was protecting you."

* * *

Togusa sat alone on a leather couch in the lobby. The cushion sunk beneath his weight and his heart sank just as low. Cradling his head in his broken hands, he tired to stop the trembling of his body but the wires which were his nerves would not relax. He tried to remember what actions had transpired over the course of the last four days, but his memories were hazy and disorientated. The merging of his real memories and his artificial ones blurred together like a double image. To his horror and relief he realized that his mind had been hacked and that everything the doctor had told him was a lie. His life had been true, his family was real. He also realized that along with the relief came the realization that Miki really was gone and that because of his foolishness she was dead. This thought brought on a fresh wave of grief which shook his entire body to the core. He gripped his face in his hands and sobbed dryly, unable to cry. The ghost of his soul went through the entire process of mourning, but his body was incapable of such a heavy task. "Miki." He gasped the child's name through convulsions of sorrow. "I'm sorry."

He felt a presence about him and he lifted his head from his hands to meet the stern gaze of the major looming imposingly above him. Slowly, with deliberation, she pulled a new pair of dark sunglasses from her eyes to better meet his gaze.

"Major." He straightened himself and attempted to regain his composure. His face was haggard, his facsimile hair in disarray, and his suite was crumpled and torn during the fight. He trembled under her harsh, opposing gaze, yet there was something sympathetic about her stern silence that calmed him. Slowly, her face took on a softer look and she sat down on the coffee table before him, one muscular leg crossed over the other. Togusa could no longer hold her gaze. Remembering what he had done, he lowered his head in shame. His bangs fell over his eyes. "Major I...don't know why I did...I almost..."

"But you didn't." she spared him the pain of finishing the sentence and coming to terms with the horrific reality of his actions. "It wasn't your choice."

"The worse part is that those memories they are still imbedded in my head." Togusa dug into his scalp as if to scratch the memories away. "I can't separate my real memories from the false ones...and it scares me to think that either one may be true."

"Memories are only part of what makes an individual. A person's ghost is their true essence." Motoko spoke quietly. Togusa's grip on his hair loosened and he allowed his crippled hands to drop to his lap. "It is the core embodiment of one's identify developed during the course of one's life, by their own unique experiences and relationships. Memory is only part of what defines who we are."

"But none of this really has been proven with science." Togusa gave her a scorching glare, daring her to answer. "Prove it to me, Major. Prove to me that I exist! Prove to me that I'm not some doll created by Section Nine!"

"I wish I could." Motoko said and he caught the private tone of her voice. He had struck a personal note and he felt truly sorry. "If only it were that easy."

"I am so confused." Togusa lowered his face again. "I can't sort it all out."

"Looks like you picked up some weird memories in a weird place." Her voice was understanding and relaxed as she leaned forward, her hands clasped on her knee. Her hair fell about her face, hiding her expression. Her eyelids lowered so that her lashes hid what little he could see of her eyes and her fingers twittled as if she was too preoccupied with her own thoughts to care what he did. "You were hacked pretty bad."

"How did you know?" Togusa asked, testing the joints of his arm. He examined the torn ligaments and broken wires in each arm and he could barely support his upper body with his crushed stomach. The damage was severe and he knew that he would need a new body. Once again, he was grateful that he had turned his pain receptors off. He would not turn them back on until after he received a new unbroken body.

"When you were running in autistic mode I became suspicious. On top of that your behavior was kind of a dead give-away." She answered simply. "I was unable to create a ghost infiltration key so I did a backhack on your optical elements."

"You knew all along and you didn't do anything." Togusa was surprised by how sloppy he had been.

"Honestly, I didn't think you had it in you." Motoko laughed slightly. "On top of that, it was hard to track you from your optics after the hack."

"I could have killed him." Togusa said, not daring to meet her gaze. Even though he knew the memories were all false they were still there. They would always be there, threatening to overcome him once more. He still could not grasp which memories were his and which were false. Because the false memories were so sporadic, most of his original memories were secure, but there were some memories he would never reclaim. He was simply grateful that the doctor did not over-write his entire memory. "The Chief, is he alright."

"Not even phased." Motoko said simply. "He's arranged to have your memories extracted during the body swap to use as hard evidence against the doctor. This is just the kind of proof we need to warrant his arrest."

Then, her expression became darker and he sensed that bad news was to follow. "The Chief and I are going to keep this situation under wraps, but you are expelled from this case and you will be taking a temporary leave until your mind is stable again. Until your emotions are under control, you are a hazard to Section Nine and a hindrance to the case...I'm sorry."

"Yeah." Togusa sighed, placing his forehead in the palm of one mangled hand. He slowly dragged his fingers through his hair in exasperation, releasing his breath in a slow heavy manner. His body shuddered with the effort and he felt as if his stomach had been punched in even deeper. He lowered his head until his hair hung over his face and his shoulders drooped low. "Me too."

After a moment of silence, Motoko asked him quietly. "So, who was the girl?"

"She was someone I failed." Togusa choked on the last few words. He had regained his daughter, but because of his paranoia this child had died. He could have saved her, but he had been too preoccupied with himself to notice that she had been in danger. "That is why I need to stay on this case. I need to stop that madman... for Miki.. and for her."

"Her?" Motoko gasped in surprise. She knew he was referring to the child who had shot him, turning him into an inhuman cyborg. "The girl who.."

"She's lost out there." Togusa said, sympathy ringing in his tone. "I know because I went through the same thing."

"Togusa." Motoko said, rising. As she left, he succumbed to his grief. He was more determined to solve this case then ever, but he was no longer a part of it. He would be forced to fail this child as well. When Motoko returned, there was a vibrant expression on her face. "Major?"

"Get ready, Togusa." Motoko said, standing before him with her hand placed playfully on her hip. "You've got one more chance. Your back on the case."

* * *

Note: I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Just two more exciting chapters to go until the conclusion. I hope you all stick with it until the end. As always, feel free to post a review! 


	12. Chapter 12: Confession

Disclaimer: I do not own Ghost in the Shell, but I do own my original characters.

Note: Sorry this chapter took so long to post. Last semester had been really busy with essays, projects, and finals week. Then I was busy during all of winter vacation. Then spring semester started and I became overburdened with math homework. In short, college has been keeping me from posting. I hope this chapter was worth the wait. The story is coming to a close soon and I want the ending chapters to be as good as they can be.

Note: I would like to thank everyone for sticking with me, even with the long gaps between posting. I would also like to thank you all for your wonderful reviews. Your positive and constructive feedback has inspired me to keep this story going, especially during those oh-so-painful writer's blocks.

Note: Again, thanks for your continual support and I hope this chapter is worth the wait. It should prove to be a very exciting chapter. If your still interested, please enjoy:)

Chapter 12: Confession

Translucent figures loomed silently about the waiting room of the Kowasake Institute like ethereal spirits. Their lucent forms moved about like silent phantoms through the sliding doors and spread throughout the capacious area. Their transparent silhouettes were faint against the cluttered surroundings. Only the soft tread of their vigilant steps and the faint outlines of their wraithlike forms could be deciphered with the average human senses. No one in the vicinity was aware of their ghostly presence as the invisible squad moved about the room.

Togusa silently resided in the reception room, leafing through a magazine as if unaware of their indistinct presence. It was crucial that the invisible squad remain unseen. Maintaining the element of surprise was an essential part of Aramaki's plan to arrest Doctor Katsuo. Through the corners of his superior artificial eyes, Togusa watched the faint forms floating about the room. 'With type-2902 thermoptic camouflage, a human can easily pass for a ghost.' Togusa thought as Motoko's shapely form passed almost flawlessly by a patterned wall.

For a brief instant, Batou's visage dissolved and his large form became momentarily visible, flickering on and off like a faulty light bulb. In the instant that his invisibility shattered, Togusa could distinguish the foolish grin stretched across his broad face. Batou quickly reactivated his optical camouflage and resumed invisibility before anyone noticed.

_Careful, we don't want to give off our position. _Motoko's irritated voice echoed through everyone's cyber-brains. Her last transmission was directed exclusively to Togusa. _Look alive. Togusa, I need you ready when we ambush the doctor._ _We have to go about this delicately or he'll get wise to our ruse._

_Copy that. _Togusa glanced up from his magazine to sneak a quick look down the hall. Katsuo's secretary had not entered or exited his office in over an hour. 'Something's up.' He thought to himself, returning to the article. He was unable to focus on the words and he soon found himself glancing about the room for any sign of the doctor. Everything seemed to be normal, but Togusa sensed that something was amiss. He only became aware of the magazine on his lap when he tore a page while turning it. Irritated by this final aggravation, Togusa returned the magazine to the table and reclined in the chair. Now, he focused his attention on his hands. Since his body swap only hours before, he had not had much time to adjust to his new prosthetic body. He carefully bent each joint of his fingers, testing their response. He slowly rotated his wrist, noting the way that the artificial skin and muscle twisted around the metal skeleton. Satisfied with their response, he rested his hands in his lap and allowed his eyes to wander about the room. His gaze roved quickly among the other patients. Their despondent expressions reminded him of Miki's before she died, and he wondered how many of them had been receiving Doctor Katsuo's treatment. He slowly lowered his gaze to the seat beside him. He almost expected to see Miki seated beside him, humming and coloring a picture of her father, but he saw only a lonely, vacant seat.

Presently, a woman came to sit beside him. As she settled herself in Miki's chair, Togusa fumed inwardly over her unintentional offense. To him, it was as if she was soiling a hallowed place and he considered asking her to move. Unaware of her offensive act, the woman opened a book and began to read. Several minutes passed and the woman did not turn a single page. Her eyes were not even roving along the lines. The folded piece of paper, that served as a book mark, remained wedged in the crack of the spine. Slowly, the woman removed the paper and unfolded it. It was then that Togusa recognized it as Miki's drawing. He gasped aloud. "Mrs. Agawa...you're..."

"Yes." The woman turned her head quickly, startled by Togusa's reaction. This quick action caused her shoulder length blond hair to fall away from her face, revealing eyes the same blue hue as Miki's. "Do I know you Mr..."

"Togusa." He answered, bowing his head apologetically and politely offering his hand to be shaken. "I'm afraid we've never met."

"Mr. Togusa, it is nice to meet you." The woman smiled weakly as she clasped his hand. Her face was weary and pale, but despite her fatigue, she was still very attractive. Togusa was taken aback by how much Miki resembled her mother. He could now see where Miki inherited her blue eyes and her pale blond hair. Looking at Mrs. Agawa, Togusa could almost see Miki mirrored in her features. She lowered her head in respect. "My daughter spoke of you."

"I'm sorry for your loss" Togusa said, sympathetically as he released her hand. He had not forgotten the pain of losing his own daughter. He also grieved for Miki. Even though she was not his daughter, she was a child very dear to his heart. "I understand what it is like to lose a daughter."

"Then I suppose you're aware of what happened to Miki." The woman smoothed the paper with the palms of her hands. She pulled her hands away and examined the caricature of her husband. He looked nothing like she remembered him. His face was contorted with rage and his red eyes were ablaze with hatred. Fang-like teeth protruded from his demonic face, making him appear more like a demon mask from a Noh play rather than a man. "I just can't understand how Miki conceived these ideas. It's frightening, even to the eyes of an adult. I don't understand. Her father was not at all like that."

"I know." Togusa said with profound understanding of her situation. He remembered the way his own daughter had looked at him when she first saw his prosthetic body. He was sure that this monstrous image was what she had seen when she looked at him.

"Why did she kill herself." Miki's mother asked herself allowed, as if she had asked herself that same question many times before, but was still waiting for her voice to answer back. Tears welled in her eyes and in her frustration, she crumpled the drawing in her hands. "She jumped from the apartment rooftop. One day she was fine and then she just became so hollow inside. I should have done something."

"You did what you thought was best." Togusa assured her, even though his own guilt for Miki's death was threatening to consume him. He had seen the danger signs as well, but he had been too concerned with his own ordeal to worry about Miki. "You did what you could."

"I came in today because I am hoping that the doctor can explain why this happened." She said, straightening the picture back out. Several stray tears fell on the drawing, smearing the waxy residue. "He was working with her. He has to know."

Togusa clenched his fist, fighting the rage swelling within himself. He wanted to tell her that it was the doctor who had caused her death, but he was afraid of her reaction. He could not allow her to cause an upstart that would warn the doctor of his arrest. Instead, he offered a weak, understanding smile and said. "I hope one day you will find the resolution you need."

"Thank you, Mr. Togusa." She offered a slight smile in return. As she reached for a tissue on the table to dry her eyes, the paper slid from her lap. Togusa leaned down to retrieve it. Careful not to tear it with his inexpert hands, he picked it up from the floor. He examined it for a moment. He remembered watching Miki draw it and wondered how he had not noticed that she was in danger until it was too late. With a guilty conscience, he offered it back to Mrs. Agawa. She shook her head slowly. "Keep it. I was going to give this to the Doctor, but you can have it."

"Why?" Togusa gasped, crinkling the paper between his trembling fingers. "Why would you give this to me?"

"I'm not sure." She sighed, smiling slightly as if the weight of the burdensome drawing and the guilt of her daughter's death were removed from her and passed on to Togusa. "Miki told me how you supplied her with the paper and how you were really interested in the article on the cover. I figured, you can have it. Why not?"

"Thank you." Togusa was not sure if this was something he wanted, but it would serve as a reminder of the child he had failed and would fuel his will to put an end to the suffering caused by Katsuo's treatment. Carefully, he folded it and placed it into his jacket pocket. He glanced over at the woman. Fresh tears pooled in her eyes and he could see his own pain reflected in her eyes. As a parent, he understood that the loss of a child was the hardest thing that any human could bear. He could not help but to empathize with her at an extraordinary level.

"Mr. Togusa." Katsuo's secretary addressed him as she entered the reception room. Togusa glanced up in surprise. He had not even noticed her arrival. "Thank you for waiting, but the doctor is unable to see you today."

"What do you mean he is unable to see me?" Togusa rose from his seat, furious after his meeting with the victim's mother. "He has to see me. I'm his trusting patient. He can't treat people this way!"

"I'm sorry, but you will just have to reschedule your appointment with the receptionist at the front desk." The android's smile never faltered. "Sorry for the inconvenience."

"That bastard." Togusa hissed as the android stiffly turned and retreated back down the hall. "He must know."

"Mr. Togusa, are you alright?" Mrs. Agawa asked him cautiously, noticing his tightly clenched fists and his stiff posture. "Mr. Togusa?"

"It was nice to meet you Mrs. Agawa, but I must be leaving." Togusa said with as much courtesy as he could muster. "I have an appointment with the doctor."

"But Mr. Togusa, the secretary said-" She objected as he took off after the android.

_Togusa, what are you doing? _Motoko asked him urgently, her voice was a mixture of confusion and anger. _Your going to blow the entire plan!_

_Call it a gut instinct, but I think Katsuo may have already become aware of our plan. _Togusa responded matter-a-factly. _If he has, there is no time to waste._

_Right, but be careful. _Motoko said cautiously. _He may not even know._

Togusa came to the end of the hallway where the android waited outside of Doctor Katsuo's office. She quickly turned to confront her adversary with the same prerecorded message that she had just told Togusa earlier. Togusa did not give her the chance to speak. "Pardon my interrupting, but it is necessary that I see the doctor right now."

The android's wrists separated, exposing a gun hidden within the arm. "I'm sorry, but the doctor can not see you now." She said with a permanent smile on her otherwise expressionless face.

Togusa's body froze in position. He had not expected the android to be armed. Gasping in alarm, Togusa reached for his own handgun. Before he could withdraw Mateba, the android fired. Togusa braced himself for the bullet, but the android's aim was interfered with by an invisible force. Motoko deactivated her thermoptic camouflage and Togusa could see that she had the android in a locked hold. "Togusa go!"

"Right." Togusa nodded, retrieving his weapon. "Be careful, Major." Positioning Mateba securely in both hands, Togusa spun and kicked open the door. Firearm before him, he dove into the office and took aim on Doctor Katsuo who stood behind his desk. "Don't move or I'll shoot, you son of a bitch!"

"Please Mr. Togusa, If you really need to speak with me that badly you'll need to schedule an appointment with the receptionist at the front desk. Since its urgent I'll squeeze you in for my three o clock." Katsuo laughed, horribly amused with his own whit as he gathered together his briefcase and several files into his arms. "I'm afraid right now I have other business to attend to."

"Do you think this is one of your sick jokes!" Togusa shouted, enraged by his cynical humor. He clenched the gun in both hands and approached the doctor. "Put down the suitcase and give yourself in."

"What has happened, Mr. Togusa? You were making such excellent progress." Katsuo said calmly, placing his briefcase on the desk and raising his hands passively. "I see they have tampered with your mind to turn you against me. Your doing exactly what Section Nine wants you to do. You'll arrest me and help them cover up their own abuse. They're playing you just like a puppet."

"I'm no one's puppet!" Togusa grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pressed the end of his gun into Katsuo's forehead. "But if anyone's a puppeteer its you, installing false memories in innocent cyborgs' heads so they'll commit unthinkable crimes and for what! Why?"

"It's a long, involved story, but I can sum it up if you'd like." Katsuo's humor did not falter, even at the point of a loaded weapon. Togusa pressed the gun harder into Katsuo's forehead and the doctor's humor dissolved measurably. He continued in a more serious tone. "As you already know, throughout my early career, I was greatly inspired by the study of False Memory Syndrome in human patients and developed my own therapy based on methods of regression therapy used to treat it. It was because of the occurrence of false memories in natural humans that I began to question its contingency in cyborized humans. At first, my studies focused primarily on repressed memories that occurred before cyberization, however, after my own cyberization, I chose to study the occurrence of false memories taking place after cyberization."

"So you created the program for personal reasons?" Togusa sneered. His knuckles whitened around the gun as he squeezed it tighter in his hand. His hand shook violently with the desire to pull the trigger and end Katsuo's life.

"As a cyborg, you must understand the disconnection one feels between the physical and the mental self that leads one to question their own identity." The doctor played the sympathy card. "Before my cyberization, I had not achieved anything more than mastering an archaic concept, long forgotten by the medical world. In all aspects, I was a failure. My physical self had left nothing behind to secure his existence in this world so how was I to be sure of my identity?"

Togusa did not respond to his provisional question. The grimace on his face told the doctor that he was treading on the feet of danger and that he needed to continue.

"I dedicated years to the development of my regression therapy treatment with the idea that it would be able to decipher false memories from real ones. Such a program had not been conceived before and I understood what an achievement it would be to successfully create such a treatment." Katsuo continued in a boasting manner. "It was my last chance to make a name for myself and to secure my place in the medical field. I decided that if I could not continue to be doctor Katsuo, I no longer wished to be...you see, I never wanted to be cyborized."

"Are you telling me that the reason all of those innocent people died was because of the ambition of a quack doctor looking to make a name for himself at the expense of his patients?" Togusa sneered though clenched teeth. His eyes were burning with rage and the doctor squirmed under their intense glare. "Answer me, you bastard!"

"Please hold back your self-righteous judgment until I finish." the doctor said staunchly, though visibly shaken by Togusa's threatening treatment. "After my cyberization, I began to doubt my identity. I had worked with several victims of ghost hacks and I had seen the absolute devastation these hackers caused on their victims. I could not bare the thought that my entire life could be no more than the mere fabrication of some sick hacker. That is why, against the warning of my colleagues, I tested my program on myself. To them, I related images of false memories being installed by the neurologists who performed regular maintenance to my prosthetic body, however..." The doctor paused, his eyes taking on a far away look. He smiled ironically as a private thought passed through his mind and his face tightened as if he longed to release the burden that was sealed behind his thin lips. Togusa caught the expression and read its meaning. "I get it now...the false memories you spoke of were made up."

"The false memories were real, however, they were not implanted by doctors as I said they were." The doctor smiled, a look of relief passed over his pale face. "As a therapists, when working with patients with particular fears, I often discover conceivable evidence of these fears in their memories when they attempt regression therapy. However, most of these memories stem from irrational fears and, as a professional therapist, I can project the symptoms in a repressed area of memory. This is how false memories are born. Of course, I knew all this when I perceived these false memories. I understood that these memories were nothing more than a fabrication of my own imagination, induced through mental stimulation."

"Then why did you reveal your findings as fabricated memories?" Togusa demanded, shaking the doctor by the collar of his shirt. "Why would you tamper with the results?"

"You must understand, I had sacrificed my entire career in the development of my treatment for cyborized patients. You can only imagine my disappointment when I realized that my program was a failure." The doctor continued. "I had risked my reputation in the development of this procedure and if it was revealed that my procedure did not work, I would be ruined."

"So you murdered innocent people just to prove a point." Togusa could not perceive his reasoning. In his mind, all he could see were the faces of Katsuo's victims, pointlessly murdered for the doctor's reputation. Togusa shuddered in revulsion. "You're sick!"

"At first, I ignored my own findings and decided to continue my treatment, hoping that one of my patients would reveal the results I wanted, but time and again the only false memories I could decipher were instigated by the patients' own fears. I anticipated failure, however, my procedure was a success. Despite my success, I began to more seriously question my own identity. At first, I disregarded my false memories as mere products of my imagination, but as time went on, I began to reconsider the validity of the memories. Finally, I realized that my memories were more than mere illusions. The neurologists were indeed implanting false memories of failure to prevent me from continuing with my procedure and revealing their scandal to the world. They wanted to silence me."

"But why install false memories?" Togusa's grip tightened around his collar and he pressed the nozzle deeper into Katsuo's forehead. The pale, facsimile skin reddened under the pressure of the cold metal. "That doesn't prove anything!"

"When I underwent the process, I was able to uncover memories that were unmistakable proof that my memories and my very mind were being tampered with by those neurologists. I became aware of the scandal, however, I was unable to determine which memories were real and which ones were fabricated. I therefore, assumed that every memory held no validity, even the one's which I connected most to my identity." Katsuo continued in a whisper. "However, my patients held no memories of contamination so I was forced to alter the results. I still have my own memories as evidence that this scandal is going on. In order to reveal the corruption, I was forced to install similar memories into my patients in order to show the dangers of these fabricated memories.""

"But why children?" Togusa asked, trembling with rage. He lowered his face so that the doctor could not see the emotion in his eyes. "Why would you make children turn against their parents?"

"As I told you before, my adult patients were more suspicious of the procedure and less capable of believing the results." The doctor answered, nonchalantly. "Besides, the issue becomes more prominent when children are involved."

Togusa heard heavy footsteps rapidly approaching the office. He knew that he had little time to question the doctor himself before Section Nine took him in. "One more question. Why did you use me? What could you gain by hacking my mind?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Katsuo laughed. "I knew from the start that you were undercover investigating me. I had no choice but to put an end to your secret investigation. It was simple enough and you walked right into my trap."

In his shock, Togusa released him and stepped back. Taking advantage of the situation, Katsuo retrieved a concealed gun from his waist. He took aim at Togusa and fired. The bullet tore through his jacket sleeve, right below the shoulder and embedded itself in the wall. As the doctor repositioned his weapon, Togusa dove forward and took him by the wrist. He twisted the thin limb in his hand, feeling the facsimile muscle and bone strain in his grip. Even though Katsuo was also a cyborg, Togusa reasoned that the doctor's body would not be as strong as one commissioned by Section Nine. As he twisted his wrist around, the gun went off. The bullet hissed passed Togusa's face, splitting several hairs in its wake. Togusa watched the severed hairs fall passed his eyes as if in slow motion. With renewed furry, Togusa twisted the doctor's arm until it split open, revealing wires and artificial muscle. Katsuo's body replicated the sensation of pain and he experienced intense artificial pain. Shrieking loudly in protest, Katsuo dropped the gun and crumbled to the floor.

"I should kill you, you bastard." Togusa kicked the gun out of reach and pressed the nozzle of his own gun against the back of Katsuo's head. He quickly swept the hair away from Katsuo's neck and snapped the key into his terminals. The doctor became still, his eyes revealing a defeated look. "But I think that is what you've wanted all along."

* * *

Togusa watched silently as Section Nine handed Doctor Katsuo over to district police who escorted him the short remaining distance to the squad car. It seemed too easily over. After nearly a month of frustrating investigation, Katsuo was apprehended. Togusa thought that he should feel relieved, but he felt that justice had not yet been served for all of his victims, including himself.

"Well, we've turned the doctor over to local authorities and as we speak all of his remaining patients are being taken under protective custody." Motoko filled him in as she came beside him. "Katsuo faces charges of premeditated murder, malpractice, and illegal ghost hacking, among other charges. A closed case if you ask me."

"Not quite." Togusa said, fuming inwardly as his hand came to rest on Miki's drawing, folded neatly in his pocket. "There is still one patient they have not located."

"The girl?" Motoko said knowingly as Togusa approached the squad car.

"Hold on a minute." The police stepped aside as Togusa approached. Togusa leaned against the frame of the car and lowered himself to Katsuo's level. "One of your patients is still missing, a little girl. I am sure you know who it is I am referencing."

"Indeed. You could expect to find her returning to the crime scene." The doctor smirked, once again arrogantly amused with his own humor. "That place holds special memories for her."

* * *

Note: I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. The next chapter will be the last. I hope you all stick with it until the bitter end and enjoy the finale. It will be an exciting conclusion. 


	13. Chapter 13: Resolution

Disclaimer: I do not own Ghost in the Shell, but I do own my original characters.

Note: After nearly a year and a half, the story is finally coming to a close. I hope that you have all enjoyed it as much as I have. It has been a lot of fun and I hope to continue to read and write more Fanfiction in the future.

Note: Sorry that the last chapter took so long to complete, but I wanted it to be perfect. Hopefully, it builds to a climatic ending.

Note: I would like to thank all of the readers who have supported me from the beginning and throughout the entire story. Without enthusiastic readers, writing is not worthwhile. Again, I hope that you all enjoy this final chapter:)

Chapter 13: Resolution

_Togusa came to the top of the stairs. The rain clouds lifted, allowing the fading moon to light the landing through the small window. His eyes adjusted to the blue light illuminating through the window,__and he could make out a small form at the base of the landing. It was then that he recognized the girl, her eyes fresh with tears and her lips cracked and bleeding. Then he noticed the gun, the same gun she had used to kill her own father . . . Without warning, she pulled the trigger._

Togusa lingered in the doorway of the apartment entryway, paralyzed by the dreadful memories that resurfaced as he looked upon the room where he had lost his humanity. Although the room had been washed of all remnants of the desecration and horror of that night, Togusa could still feel the victim's inauspicious presence residing within the murky lobby. The red glow of the setting sun lighted the entranceway and dyed the white walls red, making the walls appear to drip with blood. The wail of ambulance sirens from the city streets outside brought Togusa back to that dreary, rainy evening. In his mind, he could see clearly the body of the victim sprawled upon the cold cement floor, encircled by a puddle of his own blood. The surprised expression that had been frozen on his face remained embedded in Togusa's memory. He would never forget the look of horror that had glossed his murky black pupils.

The blare of the sirens passed by, the memories fading away with them. The light of the sun faded as dusk fell upon the city and the red light faded from the walls. As the sun set, long shadows stretched into the doorway and spread across the cragged walls like knarred fingers scratching along the rough surface. This atmosphere heightened Togusa's sense of urgency, and withdrawing his revolver from its holster, he cautiously stepped into the familiar room and back into his last memories of humanity. Slowly, he crossed the room, avoiding the area where the victim's body had lain. Togusa's slow, heavy footsteps echoed in the empty building like the ricochet of bullets. He paused in the lobby and forced himself to look upon the place where the victim's body had once occupied.

Images from the memory dive flooded his mind as he examined the floor. Before his eyes, he could see the girl standing before her father, a small handgun clutched firmly in her small white hands. He could still remember the way her knuckles had turned transparent as her grip tightened until every vein in her hand could be seen through the thinly stretched skin. He remembered the look of fierce hatred blazing in her brown eyes and the tight clench of her teeth as her finger tightened around the trigger. Togusa could still feel her father's anguish as the memories of his final hours blurred before his eyes. Togusa's own body jolted slightly as the sound of gunshot echoed within his own memory. He could still see the man sprawled upon the cement as if the image were more than a memory. Just a few inches away, was the spot where Togusa had met his own end. Even though his body was an imitation and knew nothing of real physical pain, Togusa could still remember the way the bullet had burned as it entered his flesh.

Upstairs, the soft repetitive sound of footsteps brought Togusa back to the present reality. He listened a moment more and determined that someone was in the hall above. He recalled Katsuo's final words before he was taken away, _"You could expect to find her returning to the crime scene. That place holds special memories for her." _

Togusa glanced back down at the cement floor. 'Perhaps, she is visiting the place where her father breathed his last.' he thought as he slowly made his way to the stairs.

At the base of the stairs, Togusa hesitated once more. Slowly, he forced his eyes to climb the darkened stairway. It was not a very tall staircase, but Togusa shrank from its menacing nature, which made it appear taller. The sun had not yet set, but the window omitted little light onto the landing through the dark curtains. The entire staircase was encompassed in shadows, but Togusa's cyber eyes could pierce through the darkness. Togusa stood at the base of the stairway and listened for movement above. For a brief second, he thought he heard more movement upstairs and the sense of urgency returned.

'If the girl is here, she is hiding in one of those rooms.' Togusa rationalized as he peered into the darkness. Togusa took a deep breath and readied his firearm. With extreme caution, he brought one foot upon the bottom step. This action brought on a serge of memories as if he had crossed through a periphery where his memories lingered. Once he steadied his foot up on the step, he placed his shaking hand upon the railing. As his fingers touched the railing they seemed to react with the finger prints his natural body had left behind, connecting him with the residue of memory his finger prints had emitted onto the railing. He sensed a real, tangible response from his hand as it linked the physical with the mental. The physic imprints that he felt on this stairway were far more intense than the ones that he had experienced in the memory store. He closed his eyes tight, gripped the rail, and pulled himself completely onto the first step. The nostalgic feeling became overwhelming as he began his slow climb. With each step, suppressed memories flooded his mind and threatened to overwhelm him.

As he reached the top of the stairs his body halted on the landing as if anticipating the bullet. He could almost feel the bullet entering his body, tearing through muscle and bone. He could almost taste the blood filling his mouth and lungs. As he faced the shadows, he could almost see the girl, smoking gun in hand, before she fled into the darkness.

As his eyes adjusted to the light, he could make out the form of a child standing several feet before him. He strangled a startled cry as he came to face the very child who had stolen his humanity. He immediately recognized the girl, her face contorted with a mixture of rage, but mostly fear. Her eyes were wide, catching what little light seeped through the dark curtains. The light also caught the smooth surface of the gun as she produced it from the shadows. It rattled like a tremulous skeleton in her trembling hands. Gasping, Togusa froze in place, his own gun still positioned at eye level. In the light, he could see her pale face tense with fright. He remembered the look of abhorrence on her face the day she had shot him, the tears of rage that had streamed down her cheeks. The girl that stood before him now was not the same angry child.

Taking courage, Togusa approached the girl. He winced in preparation for the bullet, but she did not fire. Instead, she shrank back into the wall, a high-pitched sob rising from her chest as if her throat was too restricted to scream. Her eyes were wide with terror, and in them, Togusa could see a spark of recognition.

"So you remember who I am." Togusa mocked her without humor, stepping toward the girl. Even though she was a child, he did not let his guard down nor did he lower his weapon. That mistake had cost him his humanity. Togusa took aim at the girl as he took another step forward. "You must be surprised to see me."

"Go away." The girl whimpered in reply as she raised her own gun. Togusa stepped closer and the gun went off. The sound split the air and ricochet off the walls. The sound reverberated through Togusa's body and caused him to halt. The bullet whizzed passed his face, grazing his cheek. Togusa let out a strangled gasp and touched the cut with one finger. He examined the fluid on his fingertips and returned his attention to the girl. She was trembling violently, frightened by her own action. Her eyes were even wider than before and the gun rattled uncontrollably in her shaking hands. Togusa laughed hoarsely. "It will take more than that to kill me this time."

Trembling, the girl took several shaky steps back. Her face bore a look of pure horror as if she were in the presence of an unearthly ghost. She had created an even stronger opponent. He was no longer encased within the fragile vessel of human flesh but was now nearly invincible. Togusa slowly approached the shuddering child. Shrieking, she tore down the hall, fleeing from the monster that she had created. Togusa quickly pursued.

Togusa sprinted down the hall after the frightened child. As he made his way down the hall, he was only aware of the present. There were no more memories to further guide him or to make him falter. He hurried up another flight of stairs, which led him to the rooftop.

"Public security, don't move!" he shouted as he kicked open the escape door and stopped before the girl. She gave a strangled cry as she spun around from the ledge of the roof to face him. This action nearly caused her to fall from the ledge. Togusa took in the scene quickly. He saw the child teetering on the edge of the roof with the same gun pressed firmly against her own forehead and understood immediately what she intended to do. She was attempting to commit suicide just as Miki had done. Togusa understood how desperate the situation had become, but he resolved that he would not fail this child. "Stay right where you are!"

"Don't come closer!" she shrieked, her braid flying about as she shook her head in protest. Fresh tears sprung in her eyes, but the clean streaks on her dirty cheeks revealed that she had already been crying. "I'll jump!"

"Do you honestly think that death will free you from this nightmare, that it will bring your father back, that it will return me to the way I was!" Togusa shouted at her, causing her to cry harder. Her round face morphed in such a hideous way that only children can muster when in distress. Ever since his cyberization, Togusa had hated this girl, but Togusa's rage subsided when he saw the look in her eyes. It was the very same lost, despondent look that he had seen in Miki's eyes and even in his own.

"_Do you honestly think that you're the only one going through this ordeal?"_ Togusa recalled Batou's stern words, finally taking his advice to heart. 'She is just as lost as I was.' Togusa realized with growing sympathy for the child. 'It wasn't even her choice. After all, it was Katsuo who made her a murderer, not her.'

Togusa's expression softened and he lowered his voice, but not his weapon. Even if she did not choose to be a killer, she still was. "You can't take back what happened by killing yourself."

"I don't care! I don't want to live without my daddy!" The girl sobbed, the gun sliding to her waist as she lost composure. As Togusa approached the window, her anger returned and she brought the gun back to her forehead. Her eyes gleamed with fierce determination. "Go away or I'll shoot!"

Togusa stepped forward, determined to stop her from taking her own life. Shrieking, the girl stepped back on the ledge and prepared to jump. She teetered dangerously on the edge and her finger tightened around the trigger. Togusa rushed forward and grabbed her arm just as she was about to fall and pulled her back from the ridge. His tight grip caused her to release the gun and it clattered loudly on the cement rooftop. Unarmed, the girl fought violently, her arms and legs flaring as she struggled against her captor. "Daddy!"

"Daddy isn't here." Togusa grunted as her fist met his chin. Her hits were strong, even for a child's prosthetic body. "You killed him, remember."

"He hurt me!" She screamed, writhing in his arms. The more she struggled the tighter his hold on her became. In her frustration, she pounded uselessly against his chest with her small fists. Still, he would not relinquish his hold on her. All she could do was cry and yell, "He deserved to die!"

"You don't mean that." Togusa took her shoulders in his hands and met her fierce gaze.

"Yes I do! He deserved to die and so do you!" She screamed, pushing away from him, but his grip held firm. Shrieking at the top of her lungs, she continued clobbering his chest and flaring her limbs. Finally, Togusa saw her resolve break and her anger spent. Exhausted, she fell against Togusa's chest and sobbed "Why, Daddy, why?"

'Even though she is a murderer, she is only a child.' Togusa thought, looking down at the girl hugging his waste. Only a few moments earlier, she had tried to kill him and now she was hugging him as if he were her own father. He was no longer holding her, but she made no sign of letting go. Her own childish fear and need to be comforted held her there. For a brief instant, Togusa saw his own daughter clutching him in the doorway of her bedroom, begging for him to protect her from the monsters under her bed. This girl was once no different than his own daughter.

"I'm sorry daddy, I'm sorry." She apologized to Togusa, lost in her own sorrow. "Please forgive me."

"It's alright sweetheart." Togusa wrapped his arms around her, returning her embrace. She pressed her head against him and he could feel her small hands pressed against his back, begging him not to let go. He felt his own heart being wrenched from within at the anguish this girl had gone through and the pain she had inflicted upon him and his family because of Katsuo's treatment. All along, he had blamed her for what had happened, but she too had been a victim herself. "It's alright, I forgive you."

* * *

Motoko had just arrived at the apartment when the gunfire went off. Quickly, she kicked open the door and ascended the stairs, indifferent of her own welfare. In her mind, the scene replayed itself over and over again. She remembered clearly, the image of Togusa's crumpled body lying at the base of the stairs, blood gushing from the bullet holes in his chest and stomach. She could feel her own panic resurface after all this time as she remembered watching him die. She could not forget that feeling of helplessness at losing her own team member. Even though the title of Major was only a pseudonym, she was still first in command of Section Nine and in charge of every member. Togusa had been in her charge that night, and she had failed to protect him. She would not fail again.

As she came to the top of the stairs she pushed those thoughts aside and focused on what she had to do now. She rushed down the hall toward the open door. She could see the evening light spilling through the open door. She came to the rooftop gun raised, but lowered it as she took in the scene. She sighed inwardly with relief. 'Once again, Togusa has handled things his own way.' She thought as Togusa took the girl by the hand and led her outside where the police were waiting to escort the lost child home.

* * *

The sun was nearly set when Togusa brought the girl outside. When she saw the police, her grip tightened around his hand and she drew herself closer to him. He gave her hand an encouraging squeeze but she still looked frightened. He could sense Motoko close behind them with her gun ready in case the girl panicked. Togusa lead her to the squad car and coaxed her inside. Even after she was securely fastened to the seat, she would not release Togusa's hand. She pulled him nearer, her eyes pleading. "Do you think my daddy knows I'm sorry?"

Togusa felt his throat tighten and he struggled to keep his voice under control. "Of course he does."

"Do you think he forgives me?" The girl asked near tears. "Do you think he hates me now?"

"A father can never hate his daughter." Togusa answered truthfully. "He has already forgiven you."

Appeased, she offered him a weak smile. Cautiously, she reached up with her free hand and lightly touched the graze on his cheek. "Do you forgive me?"

"Yes." Togusa answered after a short pause. "I forgive you."

'"Thank you." she released his hand as a female cop approached. She was slight in stature, but somehow, she reminded Togusa of the Major. She came beside Togusa, ready to take the child into custody. Togusa searched his mind for the right words to say to the girl, for some words of encouragement, but as the door slid shut the best words he could muster were "Good luck, kid."

As the car pulled away, Motoko came beside him. Without taking his eyes from the car, he asked her. "What will happen to the girl?"

"Like the other patients, she will have to undergo extensive therapy to try and separate her real memories from the false ones." Motoko answered plainly. "Unfortunately, there isn't a cure, and she will have those memories her entire life. Whether she decides to believe in them or not is up to her. Once she checks out of a correctional facility she'll probably be placed in the care of relatives or a foster family."

"Will she be alright?" Togusa asked her as the car pulled out of view.

"I don't know. There's a good chance that with the proper treatment she may be able to overcome the doctor's treatment." Motoko said. "If not, she could spend the rest of her life living a false one or have her memories rewritten altogether."

"I just wish I could have helped her more." Togusa divulged his thoughts to Motoko.

"You helped her the best way a father knows how." Motoko said wistfully. "You may have just saved that child's life . . . just as she saved yours."

"What?" Togusa appealed for an explanation.

"When I saw you in there with the girl it was the old Togusa I saw." Motoko said, her tone lighter. "By saving that girl, you restored your own sense of humanity."

"After my cyberization I had nearly given up on what was left of my humanity." Togusa smiled in agreement. "Saving her was the only way that I could be redeemed for failing everyone I cared about. I just thought if I could save her, in a way, I would be saving myself from becoming what I feared most."

"And what was that?" Motoko asked him leisurely as she met Togusa's warm gaze. For a brief moment, she forgot that he was a cyborg and thought that she was speaking with the old Togusa again.

"Something other than myself." Togusa answered, smiling at the absurdity of his own answer. "With only my internal memories to attest to my identity, it made it seem so fragile. It was my fear of losing my identity which lead me to nearly lose it altogether."

"Memories are only part of what makes an individual." Motoko reminded Togusa. "It is the person's ghost, their essence, which defines who we really are."

Togusa smiled inwardly as he withdrew Miki's drawing from his front pocket. He unfolded the drawing and turned the paper over to the front cover of the article that he had been reading about cyberization. "When we try to define our existence aren't we really trying to define the indefinable."

* * *

Sadness encompassed the prosthetic bodies of the two children riding the motionless green sports car. Togusa paused to absorb their overwhelming sense of nostalgia. Togusa stared into the bright claret eyes of the little girl. The sadness he saw in her eyes was almost too much to bare. Hesitantly, he stepped away from their depressing aura and searched for the crib where his daughter's doll slept, waiting for her owner to reclaim her. He allowed the nostalgic sensation to lead him to the baby doll crib where he found the doll propped comfortably against a pillow. Its lonely, glossy eyes seemed to brighten at his approach as if it knew that it was going home. Slowly, he took it into his hand. He felt a strong psychic imprint and a connection between the toy and his daughter. He breathed a sigh of relief. 'You are my daughter's doll. She is real.'

"Welcome back." Togusa recognized the old woman's whimsical voice as she came up behind him. He turned to face the woman and she smiled knowingly. "So that doll does belong to you?"

"I figured that the little girl must miss her doll." He said, looking down at the little porcelain girl in his hand. "I thought I'd return it to her."

"Then make sure she gets it back safely." The old woman played along, smiling knowingly as she turned to leave.

"Wait." Togusa beckoned her back. "Remember the story you told me about the little girl and her father. Tell me, how does it end?"

"Like most stories, I suppose." The old woman smiled. "Happily."

"Thank you." Togusa bowed his head respectfully as he turned to leave, and then paused. "One more thing. I left a family photograph in the crib last time I was here. Is it alright if I leave it here for safe keeping."

"Of course." The old woman smiled as she waved him farewell. "Your external memories are safe within the memory store."

* * *

Fireflies hovered about the graveyard like glowing spirits dancing about their graves. Several of the glowing insects rested on a small marble gravestone, illuminating the name of the patron who rested beneath the cold stone and dirt. Togusa knelt before the grave and read the highlighted name aloud. "Miki."

The hollow echo of his voice reverberated through the lonely children's cemetery. In the daylight, the cemetery appeared colorful and peaceful, but at night it appeared lonely and cold. Togusa took comfort in the soft glow of the moon and the fireflies that served as a source of light and comfort for the sleeping children.

Gifts and fresh flowers surrounded Miki's grave along with several photographs of Miki with her mother and father. Togusa gently took one photograph in his hand and studied the happy faces. He immediately recognized Miki's father. He shuddered as he recalled the images he had seen when he had dove into his memories. He only hoped that he had found some peace in the afterlife, or whatever lay ahead after death. He gently lowered the photograph back beside the grave and retrieved a leather-bound sketchpad from his jacket pocket and placed it beside the photograph. "So you won't run out of paper." Togusa smiled sadly, remembering how she had bothered him for paper so many times. In his memory, he saw the slow digression of a vibrant young girl into a despondent doll and his guilt consumed him. Closing his eyes against his last impression of Miki, Togusa tried to lighten his remorse in knowing that he had saved one of Katsuo's victims that day. "I'm sorry, Miki. If only I could have saved you."

* * *

It was passed midnight when Togusa pulled into his driveway. He studied his home through the tinted windshield, overwhelmed by its familiarity, which had, until recently, been under suspicion of being nothing more than a facade. He could not imagine that all of this could be nothing more than a fabrication. The thought rose from the depths of his mind but he blocked the thought. He would have to live with the fabricated memories along with his own. He stepped out of the car and gazed upon his home.

His wife had left the porch light on for him as if nothing was amiss. Quietly, Togusa unlocked the door and entered. The entire house was dark except for a bluish glow transmitted from the television. Togusa was not at all surprised to find his wife asleep on the couch still in her day cloths. She often stayed awake late into the night to make sure that Togusa came home safety. A wistful smile spread across his face as he watched his wife sleep. She looked so calm, but he knew that she was anxious. 'Sorry I put you through this, hun.' He thought as he reached down to stroke her face. The slight touch of his hand stirred her from her sleep and she greeted him with a relieved smile. "Togusa, thank goodness you're alright. Where have you been?"

"I'll explain in the morning." Togusa said, not entirely sure what he would tell her. "I'm sorry that I worried you."

"I'm just glad that you're alright." She sighed, stroking his face. She was always putting on a strong front in front of Togusa, but he knew that she was only holding on for his sake. Her brave exterior faltered for an instant as her fingers traced the bullet graze on his cheek. "You know I wouldn't mind if you quit your job."

"I know." Togusa said as she pulled her hand away. He was surprised by how attentive she was being. He wondered if his absence had helped her to realize that she would rather have a robot husband than no husband at all. "What are you watching? One of those twentieth century films?"

"Of course." She smiled, grateful to change the subject and act as if nothing had happened. "They really are the best."

"It's hard to watch a movie with the sound turned down so low." Togusa commented as he joined his wife on the couch, noting that the volume was only turned up a few bars. "How do you know what they're saying?"

"I've watched this one so many times I bet I have the words memorized." She smiled. "I turned the sound down because I didn't want to wake our daughter. She's asleep."

"Is she alright?" Togusa asked, staring at the silent actors on the television screen. A man and a woman as flawless as porcelain posed before the camera like two lifeless dolls. Togusa felt the weight of the doll grow heavier in his pocket.

"She's been very upset since you left." His wife told him truthfully, but without judgment. "She blamed herself for why you didn't come home."

"Poor kid." Togusa said, rising from the couch. "She's been through a lot."

"Don't wake her." His wife begged him sternly as he started up the stairs. "This is the best she has slept in the last four days."

"I won't wake her." Togusa reassured her as he ascended the steps to his daughter's room. "I just want to check on her."

Togusa quietly strolled down the hall and crept into her room, careful not to disturb her sleep. He carefully lowered himself onto the corner of her bed. The mattress sank beneath his weight, but his daughter continued to sleep deeply. Togusa smiled slightly as he watched his daughter sleep, her round face illuminated by the soft moonlight filtering through the cotton window curtains. Carefully, he placed his hand against her forehead and stroked the stray hairs from her face. In her sleep, his daughter accepted his touch, leaning into his palm like a cat being stroked. This time he did not hurt her with his inhuman touch. His body did not fail him this time as he caressed his daughter's cheek in the palm of his hand.

"Daddy." She whispered, her voice husky with sleep as she recognized his touch.

"It's okay, sweetheart." He smiled, petting her hair, his hand soothing her back to sleep. "Daddy's here."

He now understood the pain that she had went through. His cyberization had not only affected him but his family as well. He knew it would take some time for her to adapt to the changes and for the hurt and the fear to heal, but when she got over it, he would be there for her. With his free hand, he retrieved the doll from his jacket and placed it beside her. He pulled the sheet over the doll, tucking them both in. In the moonlight, the doll's face seemed to have taken on a more peaceful expression as if it was relieved to be home. "It's not your fault that I left. If it weren't for you, I would have never have found my way back."

At the sound of his voice his daughter stirred from her sleep once more and Togusa removed his hand from her head and watched her drift back to sleep. He did not want to wake her now. In the morning, she would find her father and her doll safely returned. Togusa watched her sleep, humming quietly as she turned about on the mattress. He marveled at how much she was starting to look like him. When she was younger, she looked so much like her mother, but now that she was older he could see pieces of himself mirrored in her face. She was the proof of his existence, a natural creation that only natural love could create. Technology could do many things. It could be used to restore or enhance life. It could even mirror creation, but it could not create life. As long as he had his daughter, his evidence of his humanity, he could maintain his identity. Through his daughter he could dare describe his existence and to define the indefinable.

* * *

Note: I hope you all enjoyed the conclusion. It took a long time to complete, but it was worth it. Even though this is the final chapter of this fiction, I am hoping to write a few one-shots in the future. Again, I would like to thank all of my readers for sticking with it and for all of your encouragement, interests, and critiques which have helped me to become a better writer. 


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